Strangers No More
by JJAndrews
Summary: Book Two. Sequel to "The Stranger in Middle Earth" The war is over. Now it is time to rebuild. Through peace and war, John Harris lives through the beginning of a new age in Middle Earth. Yet, it maybe harder to win the peace than winning the war. He will have to live through mysterious crimes, Orc warbands and deadly plots, leading to a stunning revelation about the Harris family.
1. Chapter 1 Return to Minas Tirith

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter One

Return to Minas Tirith

The War of the Ring has ended but the tale of the English who came to Middle Earth and fought in that war is not yet over. Now I shall tell you the tale of what we did in the years after the war ended. Although the king, who asked me to write my first account, believed that all I needed to write was an account of the war through my eyes, I feel that would be a disservice to all of you who read this; so now I will finish my tale.

'Next time someone invites me to travel to a far away kingdom, lock me in a box.'

'And if you say that one more time Rickard I will lock you in a box.'

'And if you argue this again I'll lock both of you in a box.'

I, my uncle and my cousins rode down a road. I had a head of black hair and a short layer of stubble covered my face from where I hadn't shaved in weeks. My cousin Rickard's hair was the same colour as mine but it was extremely short. He also had a clasp of hair growing around his mouth. My older cousin, Markus, was clean shaven and had a head of neatly combed black hair. My uncle had greying black hair and was a little stocky, but for a man his age he was in good shape. His most obvious feature though was his missing left arm which he lost after a battle with a Troll. It was cold as the early morning November air bit at us. It wasn't as cold as Novembers could be in England but it was still cold. A light scattering of snow had fallen the previous night but there were only a few patches of snow were left. My cousins had been bickering a lot while I watched them in an amused silence. My uncle decided to stop their arguing before they gave all of us a headache. Strapped to the saddle of my uncles horse was a wooden chest filled with some of the gold he had inherited from his father.

As we moved along the road I kept my eyes fixed in front of me. We were only an hour from Osgiliath and then Minas Tirith. We'd be at Minas Tirith by that afternoon.

'I can't wait to get back,' said Rickard as he smoked on his pipe, a habit he had picked up in Erebor. 'A real bed at long last.'

'We stayed at an Inn only three nights ago,' I reminded him.

'And they let us pay less,' said Markus. 'Why did the landlord let us stay for less father?'

'His son was at Minas Tirith in the siege,' he explained to us. 'Apparently I helped save his life and when he realized who I was he wanted to do something to thank me.'

'Nothing like some fame,' Rickard commented dryly before looking at me again. 'That Inn didn't have a good bed. I think there was something alive in my mattress that kept squirming.'

'It was probably scared of sleeping with you,' I joked.

'So half the women in York,' shouted Markus.

My cousins and I belted out laughing while my uncle just shook his head and sighed at us but I think I saw a slight smile on his face.

We talked and joked until we reached Osgiliath. It was still a ruin, a shattered shell of what it once was, but all of the bodies had been taken away. Soldiers patrolled the city, it was still a vital strategic point, and it couldn't be left unprotected. As soon as we rode into the city we were stopped by a sentry.

'Halt,' he said to us. He was young but had a few scars on his face. He almost looked bored with his duty and only lazily glanced at us. 'What is your business here?'

'I'm returning from a long journey soldier,' my uncle answered for us all.

The soldier then looked at my uncle more carefully and a look of shock crossed his face. He snapped to attention, standing as still as a statue and saluted.

'Sir,' he crisply said to my uncle. 'Forgive me sir but I didn't realise it was you sir.'

'You're forgiven soldier,' my uncle told him. 'Will you let us through?'

'Of course sir,' he said and then stepped to the side of the road into Osgiliath letting us past.

We rode through the city, a few soldiers saluted my uncle as he rode past and even though he wasn't their commander anymore they still had respect for the man who led them to victory at Minas Tirith.

'It will take a while to rebuild this city,' I commented.

'It's better than it was the first time I was here,' Rickard told me. 'I took a hammer to the face and nearly got killed by a Fell Beast.'

'Don't remind me,' my uncle told him as we crossed the bridge. 'Gondor has a new king and with it a new age. This city will be rebuilt and I know that Aragorn will make it grander than ever before.'

'You're confident in him then?' I asked.

'Yes. In the end time will tell what sort of King he'll be.'

As we rode across Pelannor Fields I saw that all of the carnage of the battle had been cleared away. It looked so peaceful there with the occasional patch of melting snow breaking apart the green grass. After a while we came to a stop by a stone monument. It was a tall cross made from white stone. It was the spot we buried the dead English who fell in battle were buried. As I looked at the cross I saw words written on the wide round base of it in Latin.

NUMQUAM OBLIVISCERETUR. VIVERE ENIM CECIDIT VOS

'Never forget us,' Markus read the words in English. 'Live for we fell for you.'

'Perfect words,' my uncle said with a satisfied nod. 'Let's get into the city.'

Together we galloped towards the space once occupied by the Great Gates where we were challenged by a group of sentries. The leader was a Captain who took one look at my uncle and he knew who he was.

'Welcome back to Gondor sir,' he said after saluting. 'We heard that you were coming back sir. The King ordered that he wished to see you and your family once you returned.'

'Where can I find him?' he asked the sentry.

'In the Citadel. When I saw you coming I sent a messenger to him. He'll be waiting for you now.'

'Then we better not keep him waiting,' said my uncle and the four of us rode back into the city.

The rubble that had filled the city, and still hadn't been completely removed when we left for Erebor, was gone. Buildings were still in ruins though and many had to be demolished because they were too unsafe to be left standing. Now and again people recognised my uncle and a few waved but most just stood back and smiled. When we reached the spot where my uncle fought against the Troll, the place he was so badly injured, he stopped and looked at the scene. He just sat on his horse looking at the place it happened for a while until, without saying a word, he moved on and we followed him.

We left our horses in the stables, my uncle making sure the chest was properly locked, and then walked along the path towards the Citadel. We emerged through the walkway into the courtyard. The White Tree was still standing and looked healthier than it did before. The four of us walked towards the Tower of Ecthelion, past some of the Citadel Guards, I noticed that three of them were carrying Hand Cannons, and then we stepped into the Tower through the large doors. Looking at it then I saw that it hadn't lost any of its splendour. Standing at the base of the dais holding the throne stood two people. Aragorn and Faramir. When we got close to them we bowed our heads in respect before Aragorn spoke to us.

'Welcome back to Minas Tirith. I am glad to see you have returned.'

'We are glad to be back Your Majesty,' my uncle responded. 'Lord Faramir it is good to see you as well.'

'Thank you James. I am sure that many are glad that you've returned.'

'I'd like to think so,' my uncle responded with a small smile.

'I know so,' Aragorn told my uncle. 'The Council of England also wanted to be told when you returned. I've sent for them already.'

'I'm looking forward to seeing them again,' said my uncle. 'With any luck they haven't done anything stupid in my absence.'

'I assure you they haven't,' promised Aragorn. 'As far as I can tell they have done a lot of good work in your absence.'

'And what have they done?'

'I will let them tell you,' Aragorn responded as the doors opened and four men walked in.

Leading them was Robert of Essex, a knight in his mid fifties with years of experience in battle. Just behind him came Father Harold, the Priest who came through with us from England. He was in his forties and held an air of respectability and authority about him. Out of all of us he was the most educated of the English in Middle Earth. Walking just behind him was Edmund Howard, a merchant who became a knight before we marched on the Black Gates. He was a little older than me but suffered from slightly poor eyesight so he had to wear spectacles when reading. Next to Edmund was Jason Bridge, a commoner and one of the toughest soldiers I knew. In battle he was a merciless fighter and a loyal ally. He often served as a second in command, relaying the officer's orders to the rest of the army. He was badly scarred, with one of his eyes blind from a wound.

'Welcome back,' Robert said to us after bowing to Aragorn. 'It's truly good to see you again.'

'It's good to see you all again,' my uncle said to them. 'I'm glad to be back after such a long journey.'

'How was Erebor?' Jason asked my uncle gruffly. 'I bet your father was glad to see you again.'

'He was,' my uncle answered with some sadness in his voice.

Everyone noticed this in his voice and a few shared glances with each other.

'James,' Aragorn said to my uncle, standing next to him and Robert, 'if you wish to discuss anything with your council than you may use one of the side rooms in here.'

'Thank you for your kind offer your majesty but it has been a long journey. If you wouldn't mind but I wish to go to my apartment to rest.'

'Of course,' Aragorn responded. 'They have been kept ready for your return as promised.'

'Thank you. Robert, we'll have a full meeting in the morning.'

'At the barracks,' said Robert. When they saw our confused expressions Edmund decided to explain.

'We used a good chunk of our treasury to buy a headquarters for our Order. It's an old barracks that damaged in the siege but it has everything we need.'

'Excellent. I'll meet you there in the morning,' he then faced Aragorn. 'With your permission may we go?'

'Of course,' he answered and we turned to leave.

As we got closer to the doors Rickard and I fell into conversation with Jason while Markus started talking with Edmund. My uncle was talking to Robert and Harold. My cousins and I went to my uncle's apartment with him while the rest of the Council went to the barracks. We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling back in. There was a lot of work ahead of us though in the days to come.

 **AN: That was the first chapter of this story and I hope you enjoyed it. With any luck you won't be disappointed. For the record, this story will focus less on action and more on the relationships and the development of the characters. Don't worry, there will be action here and there. Until then I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and I'll see you this time next week.**

 **Have a nice day.**


	2. Chapter 2 At the Barracks

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Two

At the Barracks

The English Barracks was located on the second level of Minas Tirith down a side path off the main street running through that level. It was built to house about two hundred men but the Order of English Knights at the time numbered just forty four. As a result there was plenty of room for all of us. The building had three floors. The ground floor was where all the important facilities were located like the kitchen, store rooms, armoury and a small smith's forge. One of the largest storerooms had been converted into a chapel by Father Harold. At the back of the barracks was a courtyard which doubled as a training ground. The second floor was where the bedrooms were. Each room once held bunk beds for five men. They were tight for five soldiers but with some work they were easily converted into a room for two men. There was also a large room on the second floor which was being used as a dining room and recreational room. The third floor held the Council Room, the Treasury Room, which held the Orders money, and the Council Members rooms. Originally they were the officer's quarters and in a way they still were.

We were in the Council Room the morning after we returned to Minas Tirith. The Council Room itself had a large arched window in the wall with a balcony that overlooked the street below. In the opposite wall was a large fireplace which had only a small flame in it. The Council sat around a large oval table with my uncle at the head of it. Standing outside of the Council Room was a knight named Thomas Fendrel. He was once a commoner but became a knight just before we marched on the Black Gate. What we noticed was that he, and many of the other knights we saw in the building, was wearing a scarlet cloak. Rickard and I, although we were not members of the Council, were asked to stay and watch so we stood by one of the walls. My uncle had just finished telling the Council what had happened in Erebor and the death of his father. After they had expressed their sympathies the Council got to work.

'As you can see James,' started Robert, 'we have bought a headquarters for our order and we are secure for now.'

'What about the Treasury?' my uncle asked Edmund.

'The purchase of this building cost half of our treasury and repairing the damage it had suffered during the siege had cost a quarter of what we had left. We are now down to just below ten pounds.'

'What else are we spending money on?' asked my uncle.

'The monthly salary for each of the knights,' said Edmund. 'Added to that is the cost for food and drink. Then there is the staff of two cooks and two cleaners. We will run out in a few months.'

'You don't need to worry about that,' my uncle told him and then gestured at Rickard with his remaining hand.

Rickard knew what he meant and lifted up the chest sitting by his feet and carried it to the table. As my cousin unlocked it my uncle explained what it was.

'When my father passed away he left me most of his money. I couldn't bring all of it with me but this chest contains some of it.'

Rickard opened the chest for the rest of the Council to see.

'Bugger me,' said Jason when he saw the gold coins piled high in the chest.

'In the chest is the price of just over two hundred pounds. In Erebor I don't know how much is left but it is a massive amount.'

'So our money problem is solved,' said Edmund.

'What else have you done in my absence?' my uncle asked them.

'Not very much actually,' said Robert and Jason said something under his breath. 'We've agreed that each of us should be easily identified in public so we've decided to have a uniform.'

'And that is?'

'The scarlet cloaks,' Harold replied. 'We felt that they will easily identify us.'

'Very good,' my uncle commented. 'Is there anything else I need to know?'

'I'll be leaving in a week,' said Edmund. 'Do you remember how I was planning to buy land in Rohan?'

When my uncle and Markus nodded he continued to explain.

'I just need to give them the money and then I'll own five acres of land just a few miles from Edoras. I agreed to meet the owner of the land in the city to make the payment.'

'What type of crops can be grown there?' I asked him.

'Wheat and, what's the name? Potatoes,' he answered. 'I've seen the land myself and it's very good.'

'I have to see my own land soon as well,' said my uncle. He was referring to the land he was given as a reward for his service to Gondor. 'I won't be going for a while though.'

'If that's all we have to talk about I suggest we adjourn this meeting,' said Harold.

'Here, here,' said Jason. 'My mother used to say that council meetings were a bunch of people waiting to go home.'

'Thank you Jason,' said Robert.

'Then she threw a brick at one of the town councillors.'

'Why?' Rickard asked with a small chuckle.

'He didn't pay her for the night before.'

'Jason,' my uncle reprimanded him, 'I don't mean to disrespect your mother but if you keep talking about what she did for money you'll be asked to leave the Council.'

'Alright Harris,' Jason said to my uncle in a relaxed way.

'This meeting's adjourned,' said Harold and the Council members stood up from their chairs.

'Rickard,' my uncle said to his son, 'take the chest, lock it and put it in the Treasury Room.'

'Yes father,' he agreed and did as he was told.

I was about to leave the Council Room and go to my room in the Barracks when Harold stopped me.

'John may I speak with you in private?'

'Of course Father,' I said to the Priest.

'Come with me to the Chapel.'

We walked down to the Chapel, passing a few knights, and then we walked into the Chapel. It was large enough to hold all of the knights inside with pews along the room and an altar at the front of the room under the window. Sitting on the altar was a gold cross. When we had sat down on the front pew, Harold reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.

'A little over a month after you left for Erebor John I received this letter from Sunniva,' he told me and her name got my full attention.

'What did she say?'

'She told me that she has started praying to God in the Christian way under your advice. She wanted to let me know so I could tell her of anything she needed to know.'

'And what did you tell her?'

'I told her that she should continue praying the way she has been doing. I also asked her if she wanted to be baptised.'

'Did she say yes?'

'Yes. I have not been able to baptise her yet as I've been busy here. I planned to travel to Edoras next week with Edmund and baptise her then. I was hoping you would be willing to accompany me there.'

'Of course Father,' I told him. 'I suppose that since I started her on the Christian path I should be there when she fully becomes one of us.'

'My thought precisely John. I sent her a letter confirming the date. I think you should write your own letter to let her know you're back.'

'I will. Is that all Father?'

'Almost, John. She also told me that she is happy to let others know of her new faith. You may go now.'

'Thank you,' I said to him and then stood up to leave.

I went to the room Rickard and I shared in the barracks. So far I'd only been told where it was and hadn't been inside yet. I quickly found my way there and walked in to find Rickard sitting on his bed. There were two beds, two chairs, two small cupboards for our clothes and two small writing desks. Attached to the walls above our beds was a pair of shelves for our belongings.

'Why did Father Harold want to talk to you?' my cousin asked me as I sat down on my chair.

'Sunniva,' I answered.

'Oh my God!' he shouted and slapped his hand against his forehead. 'How many months until it's due?'

I was puzzled for a moment by what he meant. Then I knew what he meant so I threw an empty ink well at him. Instead of being annoyed he just kept laughing at me.

'Firstly, nothing's due. Secondly, if you say anything like that again I'll let Markus know who stole his collection of Robin Hood tales when he was thirteen.'

At that Rickard stopped laughing and stood up.

'Don't you dare,' he warned me.

'I won't,' I promised him.

'Seriously though,' he said as he sat down again, 'why did he want to see you?'

'I suppose you could say I'm responsible for the first Christian conversion Middle Earth.'

'Eh?'

'The night before we left Edoras to go to Minas Tirith Sunniva had nightmares about her father being killed. She despaired over never seeing him or her mother again. So I told her about Heaven and God to comfort her.'

'And now she wants to become a Catholic?' he asked me and I nodded my head as an answer.

'Is there something wrong?' I asked him.

'Nah,' he responded. 'As long as Father Harold doesn't say we have to go on a Crusade I'm fine.'

'Rickard, can we not mention the Crusades?'

'If you insist,' he said in a relaxed voice. 'So when's the event of the year happening?'

'Next week,' I answered. 'Father Harold and I are going to Edoras with Edmund. That's when she will be baptised.'

'Have fun while you're there.'

'Rickard, it's a religious ceremony not a party.'

'Then enjoy seeing Sunniva again.'

'I will. She's my friend after all.'

'Not from what I remember at the Celebration Party.'

I rolled my eyes at my cousin.

'I was drunk,' I reminded him.

'So was I but I didn't kiss anyone,' he then paused for a moment. 'That time. Admit it John. You like her.'

'We're friends must I remind you?'

'But you still like her more than that. I may be an alcoholic but I can see these things.'

'Rickard, if you don't drop this I'm going to Dining Room.'

'Alright I'll stop,' he agreed. 'So are you going to write to her?'

I was about to leave when Rickard started apologising.

'I didn't mean it like that! Are you going to let her know you're back or are you going to surprise her in a week?'

'I was going to write her a letter but then you and I started talking.'

'Sorry for interrupting,' he jokingly apologised and started smoking a pipe while I got out a sheet of parchment and some ink and started to write.

 _Sunniva_

 _It's me, John. I arrived back in Minas Tirith the day before I started writing this letter. Father Harold told me about your wish to be baptised and he asked me to accompany him to Edoras. I agreed and I can't wait to see you again. It has been far too long since we last saw each other._

'So sweet,' I heard Rickard's voice say over my shoulder.

'I'm going,' I declared, picked up my ink, paper and quill and started towards the Dining Room.

...

 **AN: Well I hoped you enjoyed that chapter. For the record, I've been waiting to write that line about Jason's mother for weeks now. I also had lots of fun writing John and Rickard.**

 **Review Respons:**

 **Kiya: I knew you'd be the first to review. I'm glad you liked the start of this story and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**

 **As ever, review, read on and have a nice day.**


	3. Chapter 3 Before Leaving

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Three

Before Leaving

The Council sat around the large table of the Council Room having a meeting late in the afternoon. It was going to happen earlier but my uncle had to see the King. Technically my uncle invented the Hand Cannon so they needed his permission to make more and the King wanted more built for the Gondorian army.

'So we will send the Landlord a full apology for the fight in his Inn as well as money for the damage caused,' said Markus while Edmund examined a scroll of parchment.

My uncle furrowed his brow and groaned.

'Can you remind me what caused this incident?' he asked the Council.

'As far as I can understand,' started Robert, 'young Mathew Fendrel got drunk and behaved disrespectfully to a young woman. Her father then got involved, asking him to leave, and he punched him. After that two of our knights who were there got involved and a brawl started.'

Jason chuckled a bit as he patted his new black eye.

'Please remind Mathew that the Code of Chivalry states that we must respect women,' my uncle said and was about to move on when Jason interrupted him.

'James, Mathew wasn't always a knight. He hasn't had that blasted code rammed down his throat since he was old enough to walk without a wet nurse.'

'Jason,' my uncle reprimanded him, 'he is a knight now and he must act respectfully. What's next on the agenda?'

'We've had several inquiries, well, three to be exact, from high ranking Gondorian families on when we will start recruiting more knights into our Order,' said Robert.

'What will the conditions for joining our Order be?' my uncle asked them.

'Our aim when starting this order was to help spread our faith,' said Father Harold. 'Robert and I agree that a condition for joining our order should be that the member would agree to be baptised.'

'Here, here,' said Markus.

'Let's vote on it,' my uncle decided. 'All those in favour of only accepting men who agree to convert to our faith raise your hand.'

My uncle, Markus, Robert and Father Harold raised their hands.

'Vote carried,' my uncle announced. 'Anything else?'

'I just wanted to remind you that I, John and Edmund will be leaving for Edoras in the morning,' Father Harold reminded them.

'We remember,' Jason said as he stretched in his seat.

'If that's everything then let's adjourn,' said Robert.

'Agreed,' everyone said as they stood up and began to file out of the room.

...

Rickard and I walked along the corridor to the Dining Room.

'So you'll make sure you're back by Christmas?' he asked me.

'We'll only be away for ten days at most,' I told my cousin. 'We'll be back by Christmas.'

'Good. So what's for supper then?'

'I think they're doing fish today.'

The two of us walked through the doors into the dining room. It was the largest room in the barracks where twelve square tables sat next to each other. Most of the seats around the tables were already occupied but we did manage to find a couple of spare seats. The only other man sitting there was Mathew.

'How are you feeling?' I asked him, gesturing at his split lip.

'Fine,' he answered. 'I've been through worse.'

'I suppose a brawl's nothing after Pelannor,' Rickard joked.

Mathew's face dropped a little as he remembered that battle so I was about to change the topic when the doors of the Dining Room opened and the members of the Council walked in. While most of them walked to their own table, Markus joined the three of us.

'How was the meeting?' I asked him.

'Same as usual. We have to pay the Land Lord of the Inn for the smashed table and chairs,' he said and looked at Mathew.

'I'm sorry.'

'Just don't get that drunk again.'

'I won't.'

'Good.'

'Did you decide on anything else important?' I asked Markus.

'The Council's been asked by some of the local nobility if we'll be accepting new recruits into our order.'

'How many nobles asked?' inquired Rickard.

'Four families have asked for information.'

'And what did the Council decide?'

'They decided to accept new recruits by next July and only accept those who have been trained already and agree to be baptised.'

'Will they be happy about having to join our religion?' asked Rickard.

'That reminds me,' I said suddenly, 'weren't we going to build a church?'

'We've only just bought a place in the city for it but we'll wait until you, Father Harold and Edmund get back from your trip to Edoras to hire an architect.'

'Then we'll try to get back as quickly as we can.'

'Oh we wouldn't want to interrupt you visiting your lady,' Markus said in a dignified voice as he and Rickard shared an amused glance.

I rolled my eyes at them and shook my head.

'Why do you two only work together when you're trying to annoy me?'

'It's fun,' they both answered at the same time and Mathew tried to stop himself from laughing.

'Besides,' Markus continued as he laughed, 'Jason informed the Council of an entertaining rumour that has been going around.'

'I have a bad feeling about this,' I muttered.

'The rumour is that you behaved improperly with Sunniva.'

'How did this start?' I asked him.

'Apparently someone overheard Rickard asking you when something's due.'

'I am losing my faith in Humanity,' I groaned.

'In a week no one will care about this,' Rickard assured me.

'They better not.'

'Still though,' started Markus, 'you must admit that you are very defensive whenever Sunniva is brought up.'

'No I don't.'

'Then why is your face turning redder than one of those tomato things?' asked Rickard.

I was silent and tried to stare down my cousins who were grinning at me while Mathew watched with amusement

'I admit she is pretty-'

'He admits it,' Rickard said quickly as the servants walked in carrying trays of food.

'-and I like her as a friend.'

'And my father tried to introduce you to most of the noblewomen in Yorkshire but you couldn't care less,' Markus reminded me.

One of the servants placed plates in front of us so we started on our meal. It was a piece of fish with some vegetables, as I thought.

'I was more focused on preparing myself for when Henry Tudor planned to kill the rightful king of England.'

'And then we all nearly got killed in a marsh,' quipped Rickard.

'So will you be doing anything important while I'm away to attend a religious ceremony?' I asked them.

'No,' Rickard answered.

'Not much.'

'Then I'll finish my meal and start packing for the journey. Edmund wants to get going as soon as possible.'

...

Early the next morning I stood outside of the barracks with Edmund and Father Harold. Waiting next to us stood our horses, trampling their feet to keep themselves war in the cold morning air. I wrapped my scarlet cloak around me and patted my horse on his neck. The front door of the barracks opened and my cousins and uncle stepped out of it.

'Take good care of yourselves,' my uncle said to all of us.

'We will,' said Edmund.

'Good. Father, when you have baptised Sunniva I would like you to invite her and her brother to our Christmas Feast. Don't demand her to. Just ask her if she'd like to.'

'We will,' Father Harold agreed.

'We'll be back soon,' I told them.

'Very good,' my uncle said with a smile. 'Take care. Godspeed my friends.'

After that we mounted our horses and started our journey to Edoras.

 **AN: Well that's the definition of a filler chapter for you!**

 **I'd also like to add this statement. My heart goes out to all of those who have lost everything in the recent floods in the North of England.**

 **Also, I'm sorry this chapter's a little late. I had a bad case of writers block but the next one should be here on time.**

 **Now, review response time:**

 **Kiya: I'm glad Rickard's funny and not annoying anyone. From now on I'll avoid making jokes about Jason's mother. By the way, if you think what I wrote about Jason's mother was bad, that's nothing compared with what the Carry On films got away with.**


	4. Chapter 4 The Growing Family

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Four

The Growing Family

It was early on the morning of our fourth day of riding. The horizon was still dark but it was easy to see the large sheets of white snow which coated the grass lands of Rohan. As a chilling gust of wind blew into me I wrapped my scarlet cloak around me and pulled my hood over my head.

'We'll be at Edoras in a few hours,' said Edmund who was at the front of our group.

'Thank God,' I muttered, my words turning into mist in front of my face.

Edmund was at the front of our group, a large leather bag holding the money for his land hanging from his belt, next to a smaller purse. Father Harold and I were just behind him.

'I'm glad the baptism will be done inside,' said Father Harold.

'I think we all are,' I responded.

As the morning went on the weather got a little warmer but it was still cold. By mid morning we had reached Edoras. We rode over a small hill and saw the noble city and I smiled when I saw it.

'Good to be back,' I said to myself.

'I agree,' said Father Harold. 'Let's get a move on.'

The three of us rode quickly towards the city and we stopped outside of the gates.

'Who are you?' one of the guards above the gates asked us.

'Edmund Howard,' the merchant answered.

'Father Harold Grantham.'

'Sir John Harris.'

'You may enter,' he said and someone on the inside of the city opened the gate.

When we rode into the city I saw it was different from the way I last saw it. Many parts of it were covered in a thin layer of snow but the main path through the city was cleared of the snow. Not many people were out and about, keeping inside away from the cold. As we rode up the path we passed a little house I knew well. Sunniva's house. A quick look at the smoke coming out of the little chimney told me that she and her brother were home.

'Do you mind if I see Sunniva now?' I asked my two companions.

'I think we'd better stable our horses first,' Father Harold suggested.

'And get some rooms at the Inn,' said Edmund. 'It's bloody cold out here.'

'Alright,' I agreed.

It wasn't a long journey to the stables and after that we walked into the Inn. It was a large room, much warmer than it was outside, with many tables scattered around the place. On each table were a few candles that helped to light up the room. Not many people were in the main room but the innkeeper was busy at work cleaning mugs. The three of us navigated our way through the tables to the counter.

'Can I help you sirs?' the innkeeper asked us.

'We'd like to rent three rooms for tonight,' said Edmund.

'I see,' the innkeeper said and reached under the counter to pull out a large book, some ink and a quill. 'Can I have your names?'

'Edmund Howard,' the merchant started, 'Father Harold Grantham and John Harris.'

He wrote down the names and stopped suddenly.

'The English,' he remembered. 'What brings you back here?'

'Some business,' Edmund explained.

'Welcome back anyway,' the innkeeper said happily. 'The rooms cost twelve copper pennies.'

Edmund fished out his money bag and pulled out a large silver coin.

'I think this should cover it,' he said and placed it on the counter.

'Thank you,' he said and nodded to himself. 'Your rooms are upstairs. Turn right on the first floor and the first rooms you see are yours.'

'Thank you,' Edmund said with a nod of his head. 'Later today a woman named Deneyth will be arriving here. When she does can you tell me she's arrived?'

'Fair enough,' the innkeeper agreed.

We walked up to our rooms quickly to unpack our supplies and then Father Harold and I returned to the main room of the Inn.

'Sunniva's house next,' I said with a slight smile.

'Yes. The family of God grows larger this day.'

The two of us stepped out of the Inn into the cold and walked as quickly as we could towards Sunniva's house. On the way there we passed a few soldiers and one or two ordinary people. The sky above us was gray, filled with heavy snow clouds which hadn't yet released their load. The cold air nipped at us so we were relieved when we reached Sunniva's house. I stepped up to the door first and hesitated for a moment before knocking. I tapped on the door three times and waited for someone to answer.

'Wait a moment,' I heard a familiar voice say.

The door was pulled open and I saw my good friend. Her dark blonde hair was simply braided and her blue eyes were bright. When she saw me a smile spread across her face and she gripped me in a hug which I returned.

'It's great to see you again,' she said with a voice filled with happiness.

'And it's good to see you again,' I returned her compliment as the hug ended.

She smiled at me again for a few seconds until she turned to look at the priest.

'Father Harold,' she said respectfully with a small bow of her head.

'I'm glad that I can properly meet you at last,' he said politely. 'Are you ready?'

'Of course,' she answered and ushered us inside.

Her small house was the same as I remembered it. Small, only one room, with a bed at one end of the room and a table near the hearth in the centre of the room. Cenric, Sunniva's younger brother, sat at the table, which I noticed had been repaired after Cernic had apparently wrecked it by accident.

'John,' he happily said when he saw me.

'You've grown taller,' I said when I saw him.

'Everyone's been telling me,' he said in a voice that said he was getting tired of everyone telling him.

'Cenric this is Father Harold,' Sunniva introduced the priest to her brother.

'It's good to meet you young man,' Father Harold said and shook Cenric's hand before sitting down at the table. Sunniva sat opposite the priest while I sat next to Father Harold.

'When I got your letter a few months ago I was surprised that you were considering becoming a Christian,' Father Harold said to Sunniva. 'Are you sure you wish to join our faith?'

'Yes I'm sure,' she answered.

'My concern is that you know very little of Christian teachings,' the priest told her.

'Then you can teach me can't you?' she asked him.

'How long will the short version take?' I asked Father Harold.

'A while,' he answered. 'Let's start at the very beginning then. In the beginning there was only God.'

For the next two and a half hours Father Harold explained the history recorded in the pages of the Bible. Although he was not going too far into the details he gave Sunniva a good insight into Christianity. Occasionally she or Cenric would ask a question about what something means. When Father Harold had finished, ending with the Roman persecutions of Christians and the rise of Constantine the Great, Sunniva was silent as she took in all which she had learned.

'Amazing,' she said at last.

'My thoughts precisely,' said Father Harold. 'After learning all of this do you still wish to be baptised?'

'Yes,' she answered and nodded her head. 'I still want to become a Christian.'

'Good,' the priest said to her. 'Let's begin.'

He explained to her the process of Baptism and she sent Cenric to get her friends for it.

...

The Baptism took place in Sunniva's house. We didn't have all of the equipment which was normally needed but the priest decided that we had enough for a basic ceremony. He had gathered a few items for the ceremony. A white cloth and a font. It was a foot across, made from silver and had an ornate cross etched onto the side of it. When I asked him where he got it he explained to me that he was a chaplain to a knight and his wife who were expecting a baby. He was separated from them after the Battle of Bosworth and was then pulled into the portal.

A few of Sunniva's friends and Cenric were standing in the now crowded house waiting for the event to begin. Sunniva stood a little away from the table opposite Father Harold who was pouring water from a jug into the font. I was standing next to Sunniva who was biting her lip nervously.

'Are you alright?' I asked her.

'Of course I am,' she assured me. 'It's just a big moment.'

'I know.'

'What did your friends think when you told them about this?'

'They were surprised for a bit but they're supportive.'

'Good.'

Father Harold put the jug of water down and brought his hands up as a signal for silence.

'May Sunniva please step forward,' he said with strength in his voice.

After sharing a brief glance with me for a second she stepped towards the table and waited. Father Harold started reciting prayers of exorcism to remove any impure spirits from Sunniva so she could hear and speak the Word of God. Sunniva's friends watched in curiosity at the ritual in front of them. Father Harold picked up the white cloth and put it on Sunniva around her head, cloaking her with Christ.

'Do you reject sin, so as to live in the freedom of God's children?' he asked her.

'I do,' she answered.

'Do you reject evil and refuse to be mastered by sin?'

'I do.'

'Do you reject Satan, father of sin and prince of darkness?'

'I do.'

Sunniva then bowed her head over the font and closed her eyes as Father Harold reached his hand into the water and drew some of it up.

'I baptise you Sunniva,' he declared loudly, 'in the name of the Father,' he poured the water in his hand onto her head and picked up some more, 'and of the Son,' he poured it and lifted out one more handful of water, 'and of the Holy Spirit.'

With that she was a Christian. She was welcomed into the family of God and she smiled knowing how important the decision she had made was.

 **AN: That seems like the right place to end this one. I hope you all liked it.**

 **Now, I have a question for all of you my fantastic readers.**

 **If any of you woke up in Middle Earth, what would you do?**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP: Now, I'm not an expert on Tolkien but I have a strong idea of what religion in Middle Earth is. The dead go to the Halls of Mandos but then the souls of Men go to a place that not even the Valar know. Also religion in Middle Earth was what's known as a de-centralised religion where there is little to no priesthood or temples/churches. In all of Tolkien's works he only recorded two temples, one on Numenor dedicated to Eru and the other dedicated to Melkor. I think that comparing Gondorian religion to ours is like comparing a blimp to a plane. Similar but with many differences.**

 **Kiya: Thanks for another review. I think I'm over my writers block now.**


	5. Chapter 5 Join us for the party

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings so will the Tolkien Estate's lawyers please leave me alone?

Chapter Five

Join us for Christmas

I and Sunniva sat at a table in the Inn having a light supper. It was fairly busy with many people who wanted to enjoy an evening. Father Harold sat by himself in a corner while Edmund was speaking with his Rohan Agent who would manage the land for him.

'I'm glad that everything's been going good in Gondor,' she said to me.

'It has. We're going to start recruiting new knights into the Order by July.'

'Good. Do you think you'll have many joining?'

'I'm not sure. Markus said that the Council has been given a few inquiries from noble families about joining.'

'Why do so many want to join?'

'My uncle. He lead the Gondorian's to victory at Minas Tirith so it makes sense for some noble families to associate themselves with him.'

'Oh. I never bothered trying to understand politics.'

'I don't like to.'

'How are your cousins anyway?'

'They're doing well actually. The only problem is they've started on a campaign to annoy me.'

'What have they been doing?'

I was about to answer when I realised that Sunniva may not want to hear it.

'John?' she asked me.

'Well, erm, they have been making remarks that I and you were, well, acting improperly.'

Sunniva looked at me with surprise for a moment and started laughing.

'Was that it?' she said when her laughing passed.

'Yes,' I calmly answered. 'I don't think it's funny.'

'They'll think of something else soon,' she assured me. 'Besides, I don't blame them for thinking that.'

'Why?'

'You were living with me for days and you kissed me.'

'We were drunk,' I reminded her.

'I know but isn't it obvious why they think like that?'

'Markus and Rickard aren't being serious. They just like teasing me.'

'I see,' she said and looked down at her food for a second. 'Has anything else happened in Gondor?'

'We've planned to make a church in Minas Tirith.'

'Really?'

'Father Harold's going to work with an architect when we get back,' I said and then I remembered what my uncle said to us when we left. 'That reminds me, my uncle asked us to invite you and your brother back to Gondor for our Christmas feast.'

'Oh,' she was taken aback by what I said. 'That sounds nice. I'd love to come.'

'Do you think Cenric will?'

'I'll ask him. It's a four day journey from here isn't it?'

'That's right.'

'I don't have a horse.'

'You can ride with me and I'll ask Edmund if he can take your brother on his horse.'

'What usually happens at a Christmas Feast?'

'It's all that normally happens at a feast but a lot larger with more types of food. I remember we would bring a Yule Log[1] into my uncle's castle and burn it in the hearth.'

'Yule Log?' Sunniva asked me.

'It's a log we burn, just a tradition. There's plenty of music and entertainment with everyone enjoying themselves. It's all just a big party but it will start with Father Harold saying some prayers.'

'It does sound like fun and I've never been to a real feast before, apart from the celebration after Helm's Deep. I'm coming.'

'Great. I hope your brother wants to.'

'I'm sure he will.'

...

Cenric did agree to come with us and he was as excited as you can imagine. Apart from Helm's Deep he'd never left Edoras and he'd heard stories about the beauty of Minas Tirith from veterans of the war.

The day after the baptism the five of us stood outside of the Inn by the horses. Sunniva and Cenric were wearing cloaks that were wrapped tightly around them but the cold still got at them. We were waiting while Edmund had a last talk with his Land Agent about the duties the Agent had. Sunniva was talking to some of her friends, exchanging a few hugs and saying goodbye's and Cenric was doing the same.

'Write as soon as you've reached my land,' Edmund instructed his Agent.

'Of course sir,' he answered and, after shaking hands, he walked away.

'Let's get going,' Edmund said to the rest of us.

'At last,' I said as I climbed onto my horse.

'I'm just being meticulous John,' Edmund told me.

I didn't respond to him as I helped Sunniva onto my horse in front of me.

'Are you on properly?' I asked her.

'Just about,' she answered and kept an eye on her brother as Edmund helped him onto the horse.

I got a hold of my horses reigns while at the same time making sure Sunniva didn't fall off by keeping my arms on either side of her. Sunniva and Cenric waved their friends goodbye one last time before we started on our journey to Minas Tirith.

[1] Before becoming a popular cake a Yule Log was an actual log, or in some cases a bundle of sticks.

 **AN: Well that chapter was shorter than most of my other ones. I just wanted to get this one done before Christmas.**

 **Next time it's the Christmas feast so I'll see you all there.**

 **One other thing though. I saw the new Star Wars film a few days ago. ITWASTHEMOSTAWESOMETHINGIHAVEEVERSEENINMYENTIRELIFEANDTHAT'SINCLUDINGTHETIMEIWENTTOHEWAROFTHEWORLDSMUSICALCONCERT!**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **Kiya: Before writing the baptism scene I spent half an hour researching what has to be done in an adult Catholic baptism. I need to get a life. I also spent half an hour researching religion in middle earth.**

 **ATP: Well that's bleak. As for how Middle Earth Religion is similar to Catholicism, I do see a resemblance. I agree that the Valar are similar to the archangels and if we wanted to go even deeper it can be argued that Sauron was the anti-Christ and Sauruman was the false prophet who turned people against what is good.**

 **On another note, Tolkien revealed in a letter that Eru tripped Gollum into Mount Doom. Divine intervention (shrugs).**


	6. Chapter 6 Christmas Eve

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings

Chapter Six

Christmas Eve

We arrived back in Minas Tirith on the late afternoon of Christmas Eve. Sunnvia and Cenric were awed by the size and beauty of Minas Tirith and I couldn't blame them. They were both given a room each at the barracks and they settled in fairly quickly. Cenric was feeling very tired after such a long journey, one which he wasn't used to so he went to bed early but got up again a few hours later in time for supper.

The Dining Room had been decorated with branches of holly and ivy while the fireplace was smouldering keeping the room warm. All of the knights, apart from the members of the Council, were sitting there waiting for the Council to arrive. I sat at a table with Rickard, Sunniva and Cenric who was growing a little impatient waiting for supper to start.

'How long will they take?' Cenric asked again.

'As soon as Jason stops annoying the rest of them,' Rickard quipped.

'So they'll only be a few minutes,' I told him.

'Good,' he said and leaned back in his chair.

'And when the Council gets here Father Harold will say a prayer then we can have our meal,' I continued to which Cenric groaned a little.

'Cenric,' Sunniva reprimanded him.

'Sorry,' he said and looked down at the table.

'Do you have any idea what's for supper tonight?' Sunniva asked me.

'Just some vegetables and fish,' I told her.

'Sounds nice,' she said and turned her eyes to the doors just as they opened letting the Council in.

They sat around what had been dubbed the Council Table at the head of the room and after they briefly exchanged a few words my uncle stood up. The room went silent as we waited for him to speak.

'My companions,' he said loudly, 'before Father Harold says our prayers and we can start our meal I have a very exciting announcement to make. At our Christmas feast tomorrow we will be entertaining two very important guests. His Majesty King Aragorn Elessar and Her Highness Queen Arwen.'

'What?' someone shouted.

'After I told him about how important it is to our faith and that is symbolises peace and tranquillity I invited him. He and his wife accepted the invitation.'

'So best behaviour,' said Robert and I saw his eyes briefly glance at Jason.

'Precisely. Remember to wear your best for the feast and I don't want any bad or drunken behaviour from anyone. If that happens the person responsible will be punished. That is all. Father Harold.'

My uncle sat down while the priest stood up and we all bowed our heads as the servants walked in carrying large trays with our meals on them. When the food was in front of us Father Harold started to recite the prayer.

'Bless us oh Lord and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

'Amen,' we all echoed and we began our meal.

I cut into my piece of fish and chewed on it. As usual it tasted good and we were silent for a bit until Rickard broke the silence.

'So do you think the King will like our Christmas meal?'

'I hope so,' I said as I thought back to when I first met Aragorn all those months ago. At the time I never thought he'd be a king. Then again I never thought I'd be a member of a knightly order.

'I'm glad I remembered to bring my good dress,' said Sunniva before cutting up a small potato. 'I didn't think I'd be eating with the King and Queen.'

'It will be fine,' I assured her.

'I hope I seem ladylike enough.'

'You are ladylike enough.'

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rickard smirk at me but it vanished when I kicked him in the shin under the table.

'Why did he really accept to come?' asked Rickard.

'Maybe he was just being nice?' suggested Cenric as he chewed on a piece of fish.

'He's trying to show his support for my uncle,' I told him. 'He's a war hero after all.'

'Ah,' the boy said in realization.

'What did your uncle mean by bad behaviour?'Sunniva asked me.

'No shouting, no being rude, no swearing,' Rickard answered for me.

'Maybe you and Jason shouldn't come,' I told my cousin.

'I'm not missing tomorrow,' he said defiantly.

'Remember to be on your best behaviour Cenric,' Sunniva told her brother.

'I will,' he said in an exasperated voice.

'You better,' she added.

'I will.'

'Good.'

The four of us ate the rest of our meal while chatting to each other about the feast the next day. The Council had spent a great deal of money on food and drink as well as extra cooks to prepare it and extra servants to serve it all. We all knew for sure that it would be a memorable feast.

...

Later that night, after everyone else had finished their meals and had gone to bed, I sat alone in the Dining Room finishing a mug of beer before I would go to bed. Apart from me there was only a cleaner mopping up a drink Jason had spilled at supper. When the doors opened I didn't pay much attention to the noise, I was just focused on my thoughts. Having supper with Sunniva that night was so enjoyable. She wasn't anything like the noblewomen from England I'd met who'd been brought up to only ever be polite and agree with whatever a man said. Sunniva however spoke her mind and wouldn't embellish her words.

'John?'

I turned around and saw Sunniva standing there.

'Why are you still awake?' I asked her out of curiosity.

'I couldn't get to sleep,' she explained. 'Mind if I join you?'

'Of course you can.'

She sat down next to me and twiddled her thumbs.

'Why are you still up?' she asked me.

'I've never been able to get to sleep before a certain time,' I answered. 'I go to sleep late and wake up early.'

'Me too. My dad always told me to get as much sleep as possible but I tried and failed. I used to just pretend to be asleep to stop him worrying.'

'Really? My uncle didn't try to get me to sleep early. As long as I was up on time the next morning he was happy.'

'Good for him. I just finished putting Cenric to bed. I want to make sure he gets enough sleep. I'm his sister but I'm now I'm the closest thing he has to a mother.'

'As far as I can tell you're doing a brilliant job,' I assured her.

'You think so?'

'I know so.'

'It's not easy though. I have to work hard to get enough money for everything he and I need.'

'How do you manage?'

'I don't think about what could go wrong. I have to stay positive.'

'If you ever need help or anything-'

'No John. We'll be fine.'

Even though she said that I saw her hand shake a tiny bit from nervousness so I placed mine on hers to comfort her. As soon as my hand touched hers she looked at me in surprise but she didn't take her hand away. Instead she stopped worrying and looked me in the eye.

'Why did you do that?' she asked.

'I thought it was best. Would you prefer if I took my hand away?'

'No,' she answered with a small smile appearing on her face. 'I don't mind.'

We were silent for a few moments, not saying a word to each other.

'Can I clean this table?'

Sunniva and I jumped in our chairs when the cleaner asked us this.

'Of course,' I answered as I stood up and then I looked at Sunniva. 'I think I'll, um, I think I'll go to bed.'

'Yes me too,' Sunniva said and we both walked to the doors of the Dining Room fairly quickly.

Once we were in the corridor outside we both glanced at each other.

'I'll see you in the morning,' I said to her.

'Yes you will,' she said and we both walked to our respective rooms.

When I walked back into mine I paused just after closing the door.

'What happened?' Rickard asked from his bed.

'What do you mean?'

'You look like you just got attacked by an Uruk dressed as a cow. I'll bet my armour that didn't happen.'

'I just had a drink and a talk with Sunniva. That's all.'

'And what did you talk about?'

'Just that it's a lot of work for her to be a mother and a sister to Cenric. That's it.'

'If you're certain,' he said to me and blew out the candle next to his bed.

'For God's sake Rickard,' I said as I tried to find my way around the now pitch black room.

'You're eyes will adjust in a minute.'

 **AN: Well I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. Next chapter will be up on Christmas Day. I hope you all enjoyed this one.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm glad you like Sunniva and spending two hours researching names is nothing. I once spent half an hour researching medieval horses and how far they could travel in a day.**

 **ATP: To be exact, Tolkien gave up on that story on Gondor's future after just thirteen pages.**


	7. Chapter 7 Christmas Day

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Seven

Christmas Day

'Pass me another one.'

'Alright be careful.'

I stood on a ladder hanging more holly onto the walls of the Dining Room while Mathew passed them to me. We decided that, as the royals were coming for Christmas Dinner, we'd decorate the Dining Room even more and that it was best to decorate even more. I took the holly and tied onto the others on the wall.

'Do we have any more?' I asked him.

'That's the last of it,' he answered as he looked inside his empty basket.

'Good,' I said and then climbed off the ladder. 'That's the last of our work done. Let's get to The Long Sword with the others.'

'I hope the land lord won't throw me out,' he said nervously.

'Relax Mathew. You'll be fine.'

'I hope so.'

The Dining Room was very busy. All of the tables had been pushed together to form one long table along the middle of the room and a massive pile of wood sat next to the fireplace which was already smouldering. Some of the knights were helping bring up the wine, beer and mead while others were, like me, putting up more greenery to decorate the room and Sunniva was spreading table cloths across the table with her brother. Mathew and I were about to leave when the doors opened and my uncle walked in. He scanned the room with his for a few moments until he saw me and walked towards Mathew and I.

'John, Mathew,' he said.

'Can we help you sir?' Mathew asked him.

'Not you Mathew. I just need a word with my nephew. Come with me John.'

I wondered what he wanted as I followed him up the stairs to his room in the barracks. His room was much larger than the one I and Rickard shared but sparsely furnished by comparison. His bed was the same size as mine and he had a fairly large wardrobe. Standing in one corner was his suit of armour, still showing the scars of battle, and his sword was hanging over a small fireplace. On his table were a few books detailing the cost of our Christmas celebrations and a few other things but the only book open was his father's account of the journey to Erebor.

'Are you reading it again?' I asked him.

'Yes,' he answered and touched the pages with his hand. 'I can almost hear his voice when I read his words. It's as if he's talking to me from beyond the grave.'

'I wish you and he could have had more time together. It's a pity.'

'It's life,' he said and sat down on his chair. 'Take a seat.'

I sat down on the other chair in the room and waited for him to speak.

'As you know John I've always given you and your cousins a lot more freedom with your private life than other knights have. I also know that I'm not your father but when I agreed to raise you I became the closest thing. That is why I want to speak with you.'

'Have I done something wrong?' I asked him feeling worried.

'I don't know yet. Earlier this morning one of the cleaners told me about a matter which is of concern to me. Last night she claimed that she saw you and Sunniva in the Dining Room holding hands and having an intimate moment. After that you both left the Dining Room very quickly. I just want to know what you were doing and if I need Father Harold to arrange a wedding.'

'Uncle!' I shouted and stood up. 'I'm not going to deny that Sunniva and I held hands but I will not allow anyone, not even you, to make accusations like that.'

'Calm down John,' he said, keeping his voice level. 'I'm not accusing you of doing anything wrong. I just want to know for sure what happened.'

'Nothing. That's what happened. Sunniva and I were just talking in the Dining Room, she said that it was hard work raising Cenric and I was trying to comfort her. That's all.'

My uncle said nothing as he looked at me. Eventually he stood up and walked towards his rooms window and looked out of it at the street below.

'John I believe you. That said I can also tell that you have feelings for Sunniva, don't interrupt me, and I will not get involved in your private life in away. Just remember that in future try to not be seen behaving intimately in front of the staff. After all, you are a knight and my nephew. You are therefore expected to behave properly and not act like some serf from a nowhere village at a maypole party.'

'I never have behaved that way.'

'I know. Just keep that in mind. That's all I wanted to say. You may go.'

'Thank you uncle.'

I walked out of his room and, after getting my cloak from my room, I left the barracks and walked straight to The Long Sword, an inn just a few minutes from the barracks which many of the knights had started to go to on a regular basis. Inside the well lit inn, which was packed with people trying to get lunch, I quickly saw my cousins, Mathew and Edmund sat at a table together having a light meal. After I got some food at the counter I joined them and told them about the conversation I'd just had with my uncle. When I'd finished the tale they looked at each other blankly for a moment until Rickard decided to break the silence.

'So do you fancy her?'

'What?'

'Do you,' started Markus, 'feel anything towards her?'

I was silent for a few moments until I answered him.

'I suppose I do.'

'I win!' Edmund shouted and banged his hand on the table as the others begrudgingly passed him a coin each.

'What's going on?' I asked them.

'We bet on when you'd admit it,' Rickard explained as he tossed his coin into Edmund's hand.

'And I won the bet,' Edmund happily declared as he placed the coins in his purse.

'You are unbelievable,' I said to all of them but I couldn't help but laugh at them.

'Now what are you going to do?' Mathew asked me.

I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

'I'm not certain if she has the same feelings.'

'You're an idiot sometimes John,' said Rickard. 'If she didn't want you to touch her hand last night she would have broke your nose and screamed bloody hell at everyone.'

'I agree with my brother,' said Markus. 'And, no offence John, but apart from Mathew who isn't really old enough to be a knight, we're all late in the marrying age here and so is Sunniva.'

'I'm not planning on proposing,' I said quickly.

'I wasn't telling you to. All I'm saying is try to make sure someone else doesn't.'

'So what is the advice of my cousins, a merchant and an ex-freeman?'

They shared glances with each other until Edmund spoke first.

'As the only one here, who has actually been married,' he started but Rickard interrupted him.

'You're married?'

'I was once,' he explained and then moved back to the topic before anyone could continue the line of questioning, 'as I was saying, my advice is to just tell her your feelings and then pray that she feels the same, even though we all know she does.'

'And if she doesn't?' I asked him.

'She will.'

'And if she doesn't?'

'You jump out the window and tell yourself it's a nightmare,' said Rickard.

'In spite of Rickard being a jester,' started Markus, 'I agree with Edmund. Just don't make yourself look like a fool.'

'Alright then,' I said and they gave me a cheer.

...

Later that afternoon, just an hour before the Christmas Feast was due to begin, I walked along the corridor on the second floor of the barracks towards Sunniva's room. When I reached it I stretched my hand up to the door then took it away quickly.

'I'm a fool,' I said to myself and knocked on the door.

'Wait a minute,' I heard Sunniva's alarmed voice say from the other side of the door. A short while later I heard her voice again. 'Alright you can come in.'

I pushed the door open and I saw Sunniva sitting in her chair next to the table in her room which contained a bowl of water. Her dress was only loosely on her and her hair damp hair was hanging around her shoulders.

'I was just washing my hair,' she explained.

'I'm sorry. I didn't know you were getting ready.'

'It's fine John,' she said as she adjusted her dress better onto herself. 'What did you want?'

'I just wanted to talk to you about something,' I explained.

'Well can you sit down at least?' she asked me and gestured at her other chair next to her.

'Thank you,' I said and sat on the chair.

'What did you want to see me about?' she asked as she dried her hair with a towel.

'It's about last night,' I said and Sunniva stopped drying her hair.

'Yes?'

'I don't know how I should say this but I was wondering, erm, why you didn't mind me touching your hand.'

Sunniva was silent for a while and put her towel down on the table.

'I,' she started, 'I didn't mind it because, because I wanted you to touch my hand.'

'You did?'

'I did. I know this sounds stupid but I think that I, I think I.'

'I think I know what you mean,' I said and I smiled at her. She returned the smile and I felt myself becoming a little less nervous.

Sunniva held out her hand a little and I took it in my hand. We stayed like that for a while, I'm not sure how long and I didn't care. Eventually Sunniva moved her chair a little closer to mine and she moved her hand a little up my arm.

'The King's here!' someone in the corridor outside shouted.

'For God's sake,' I said and stood up.

'I've got to get ready,' Sunniva said quickly and walked to her cupboard but then turned around to face me again. 'I'll see you at the feast.'

'Yes I will,' I agreed.

I walked out of her room, no one noticed me leaving Sunniva's room, and quickly walked back to the room I shared with Rickard. However, when I walked in I found both of my cousins waiting for me.

'What happened?' asked Rickard.

'Nothing you'd find interesting,' I told him as I walked to my cupboard.

...

I and my cousins walked towards the Dining Room dressed in the best clothes we had. I wore a dark blue tunic and my red cloak with my sword at my belt. The three of us joked with each other as we walked down the slightly crowded corridor.

'So you did nothing?' Rickard asked again.

'Yes,' I told him for what felt like the thousandth time.

'So dull,' Rickard commented.

'John,' I heard Sunniva's voice behind us so I at once turned around to see her and Cenric coming towards us.

She was wearing a brown dress with a white collar and a broach. Her hair was tied into a simple braid while and her hair was immaculate. Cenric was dressed in a simple but smart tunic and shoes and I could tell that Sunniva had done her best to make sure Cenric looked smart.

'Sunniva,' I said respectfully as she and her brother stopped in front of us. 'You look wonderful.'

'Thanks. So do you.'

'Are you ready for the feast?' Markus asked her.

'Definitely,' she answered and then offered me her arm. 'Shall we?'

'Of course,' I responded and we linked arms while Cenric looked embarrassed by us and my cousins shared a silent laugh.

We then walked into the Dining Room which was already packed. The entrance to the Dining Room was flanked by two of the Citadel Guard and on the inside standing here and there along the walls was a total of ten of the Citadel Guard. They took the protection of their king and queen, who sat at the table, very seriously. They were both dressed in their finest and the king was having a discussion with my uncle and Robert. The table was piled high with food of all types, venison, beef, ham and goose. There were a few plates of vegetables and large pile of bread and along the table were a few plates of small mince pies while casks of beer and wine sat along one wall. The fire was roaring with massive orange flames throwing light out across the room and a servant stood next to the fire, ready to put new logs on it. The group I was in took our seats a few places to the left of where the Council sat next to the royals. Already many of the knights were laughing and telling jokes as we waited for the last of the knights to arrive. Only a few moments later the last knights, Mathew and a knight named Lucas, walked in and sat at the last available seats. When everyone was seated my uncle stood up and raised his arms as a gesture to silence everyone. When they were all quiet my uncle spoke.

'Thank you all for coming to tonight's feast. I would especially like to welcome two very special guests to our table; His Majesty King Aragorn Elessar and Her Highness Queen Arwen.'

'And we are honoured to be invited here,' Aragorn said with a respect laden voice.

'Thank you You're Majesty,' my uncle said to him. 'Now we will begin our feast once Father Harold has said a prayer.'

At that each of us, including the King and Queen, out of respect, stood up and bowed our heads as the priest began his customary prayer.

'Bless us oh Lord and these, thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord Amen.'

'Amen,' everyone, apart from the King and Queen, said and then we began our feast.

I filled my plate with venison and goose with some vegetables and bread. My cup was filled with wine which I drank a large gulp from. Sunniva's plate was filled with less than mine but she was enjoying the meal tremendously.

'So about earlier,' Sunniva said with her voice lower than normal which, combined with the noise around us, helped to keep our conversation private.

'Yes?' I asked with a smile.

'How do you suggest we go on from there?'

'I think we should keep things private for now,' I said.

'I think you're right,' she agreed before smiling and gripping my hand under the table.

Sunniva and I talked quietly like that for a while until I was pulled into a conversation between my uncle and Aragorn.

'I am glad that the cannon designs I gave you are useful,' my uncle said to the king.

'They certainly are. If we stay on the progress we're making now we should have eight heavy cannons finished by March.'

'I wonder why you want them built so soon You're Majesty,' I said to Aragorn.

'They are an effective weapon and they will prove to be useful is the defence of Gondor,' he explained which seemed like a good enough reason.

'Hopefully they won't have to be used in Gondor's defence too soon,' my uncle said to him.

'Hopefully there will be a long peace,' said Arwen. 'Yet sadly evil will always exist.'

'And good will always be there to defeat it and triumph,' said Father Harold.

'Indeed,' I agreed.

For the next two hours we enjoyed good food and drink while enjoying the company of good friends. After many of us had eaten our meals Mathew and a few others started singing a song called Sir Christmas in a very jolly tone which many of us joined in with. I can only say that we all had fun that night. Aragorn and Arwen left the Barracks as it was coming close to midnight when most of us were feeling tired and filled with food. Cenric had gone back to his room a little earlier and I volunteered to escort Sunniva back to her room.

We walked along the corridor with our arms linked talking to eachother.

'That was so much fun,' she laughed.

'It certainly was,' I agreed. 'If only we had parties like that more often.'

'They'd always be fun,' she said happily as we reached her door.

'Goodnight,' I said to her.

'Goodnight,' she returned but didn't walk in straight away. Instead she stayed rooted to the spot for a few seconds until she could find the right words to say. 'John, when I go back to Edoras you'll still write?'

'Of course I will,' I answered. 'Why wouldn't I?'

'I just wanted to be sure.'

'Why wouldn't you be sure?'

'So I wouldn't regret doing this,' she explained and stood up on her toes to kiss me.

She planted the gentle kiss on my lips and everything was perfect. When she took her lips away from mine we both smiled and I kissed her again, still gently.

'Goodnight,' she whispered and walked into her room.

For a few seconds I stood where I was, not daring to move. I then learned how to use my legs again as I walked back to my room. I knew one thing for sure in that moment. Rickard was **not** going to hear about this.

 **AN: Merry Christmas my friends. This chapter is my Christmas present to all of you and hopefully it wasn't the type you'd want to get rid of in a secret Santa as soon as possible.**

 **I also have a confession to make. This isn't the only story featuring John Harris I've wrote. He's also in my other fanfic, Phantom of the Night. Check it out if you're a fan of Phantom of the Opera or the superhero franchise.**

 **Another thing, if any of you watch the new Star Wars film, Daniel Craig plays a storm Trooper on it. Keep an ear open for his voice.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Don't die laughing. I can't be bothered dealing with the cops who'll come to get me.**

 **ATP: I'm not planning on a wedding for the moment. Wait, if the Shire is England, does that make Mordor Texas? (Apologies to any and all readers from Texas who I have just annoyed. Please don't kill me).**

 **Now, I have something to say here. At this busy time of year I'd like all of us to ask ourselves something. What does Christmas mean to you? Think about it. To me Christmas is an important religious celebration but at the same time something so much more. It is a time when we can all come together as a people and unify in one moment of peace in a troubled world. This is the time of year which stopped one of the most brutal wars in history and the time when millions of children look forward to seeing what Father Christmas has left for them under the tree. Whatever it means to you is important and really think about that. What it means to me might be something completely different than what it means to you.**

 **Merry Christmas and God bless us everyone.**


	8. Chapter 8 Flames and Iron

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter 8

Flames and Iron

Sunniva and Cenric left Minas Tirith with a group of traders on the way to Edoras just a few days after Christmas. I still remember the last time I spoke with her before she left.

Sunniva and I were in her room packing what she had brought with her while Cenric was doing the same in his room.

'Of course I'll write when I get there,' Sunniva promised me.

'I look forward to getting it.'

'I'm sure you are,' she said with a wink that turned my face scarlet. 'Rickard was right. You're easy to tease.'

'I hate my cousin sometimes,' I said but we both laughed.

'I don't,' she said as she finished folding her good dress and put it in her bag. 'How long did you say it took him to make you tell him that we kissed?'

'Only a few minutes. He's very persistent.'

'I can tell,' she said and closed her bag. 'When do you think we'll see each other again?'

'I don't know,' I answered. 'I'll try to see you again as soon as I can.'

'I can't wait for that day,' she said and took a few steps towards me. 'One last kiss?'

Our lips connected and my hands wrapped around her waist. Her lips pushed deeper into mine and I felt our connection growing stronger with every second that past. When our kiss ended we smiled.

'It's a shame you have to go.'

'I know.'

...

The Council found itself doing a lot of work as the month of January began. They'd hired an architect to begin work on designing the first Church ever built in Middle Earth. The Church, which would be dedicated to Saint Mary, the Mother of Christ, was to be built on the sight of an old block of flats that was destroyed by fire during the siege. The work was going to cost a lot of money so my uncle sent a messenger to Erebor that he required the rest of the money left to him by his father.

My uncle himself found himself doing a large amount of extra work. Aragorn had seen the power of black powder weapons first hand at Helm's Deep and he wanted to make sure that Gondor was safe. As a result he established the Royal Black Powder Force which would be responsible for building and maintaining the black powder weapons which would quickly fill the ranks of the Gondorian army. My uncle had been made an advisor to this organisation. A total of one hundred hand cannons had been made and two Heavy Cannons had been built. The Heavy Cannons were just over seven feet long and fired an iron ball eight inches wide. It could also fire a group of smaller iron balls at close range that would tear into formations of enemy soldiers. The barrel was mounted on a sturdy wooden frame and four large wooden wheels were attached to that to move it.

It was early in the morning of January the nineteenth when I, my uncle and my cousins walked through the city towards the empty spot where the Great Gates once stood.

'How long did it take to organise this demonstration?' Markus asked him.

'A week roughly,' my uncle answered him. 'I think that the Gondorian Royal Council will be pleased with the work we've done.'

'I hope so,' I said to him. 'They've invested a lot of money into this.'

'And they'll keep want more of them, especially since the improvements we've made to the Hand Cannon.'

'What improvements?' I asked him. I hadn't been involved with the Hand Cannons at all.

'They've been made smaller so one man can aim and fire them.'

'Excellent,' Rickard said happily. 'Who wouldn't want more of these?'

'Lord Cyllcoth,' he answered.

'Ah, him,' Rickard muttered.

'Who?' I asked.

'A Gondorian nobleman who disagreed with me since the day I arrived in Minas Tirith. After I seized power from Denethor he was the leader of the faction that tried to get rid of me. Unfortunately for him he didn't realise that I had the support of the army and I had him arrested.'

'Why isn't he still in the dungeons then?' Markus asked his father.

'There was no reason to keep him in after the battle was won. Since then he's been trying to get rid of our cannons.'

'To spite you?' I asked.

'To spite me.'

'Will he be there?' Rickard asked him.

'Yes. He's very influential so he's got a seat on the Royal Council.'

'Do you think one of the Fire Hands could miss the target while Cylloth is in the area?' Rickard asked.

'Don't even joke about that,' my uncle warned his son.

'Sorry.'

We walked through the empty gap in the walls, which was soon to be filled by a great gift from Erebor, and out into Pelannor. A large delegation of Gondorian officers and nobles, including the King, Queen, Steward and Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, were sitting in chairs in front of a large group of soldiers, Fire Hands, as well as a mock battlefield. It was divided into three parts, two being groups of a dozen soldiers made of straw and sacks with armour on them and spears strapped to their hands. The third was a section of a wall with straw soldiers on top of it. Taking centre stage though were the Heavy Cannons and their crews. When I and the rest of our family sat down in our chairs in the front row we waited a few minutes while my uncle talked to a few of the officers, many of whom had served under him during the Siege of Minas Tirith. Eventually, after the last of the guests arrived, an army officer and noble named Hannastog, the head of the Royal Black Powder Force, walked up to the front of the group.

'Welcome to the first real demonstration of implementing black powder weapons. Hopefully this will show to you the power these weapons give us over our enemies. First we will demonstrate the effects of Heavy Cannons on a group of enemy soldiers at close range, the second will demonstrate Hand Cannons against enemy soldiers and the third will demonstrate Heavy Cannons against fortifications. We will begin now.'

He barked a few orders and the Heavy Cannons crews rolled their weapons into place as quickly as possible. When they moved it to just in front of one of the groups of straw soldiers the commanders supervised the loading of the weapons. In just a few moments they were loaded.

'FIRE!' Hannastog ordered and they followed his orders.

The two weapons blasted their ammunition of iron spheres at the straw soldiers cutting them down. In just one volley about three out of four of the straw men were destroyed. When the cloud of smoke from the cannons had at last dispersed Hannastog quickly gave out the next order.

'Fire Hands level arms,' he ordered and they obeyed the order.

The Fire Hands looked nearly identical to regular Gondorian soldiers apart from the weapons they carried. Instead of several men for one weapon it was now just one. The weapon also looked different because of the wooden handle underneath it and the large wooden stock that allowed the weapon to be pulled back into the shoulder. The Fire Hands also carried a Y shaped rod that they planted into the ground and were used to keep the weapons steady. Each one, a total of fifty men, aimed their weapons at the straw men and they waited for the order to use their weapons.

'FIRE!'

They touched the matches against the Hand Cannons igniting the weapons. The crackle of gunfire filled the air and fifty bolts flew through the air at the straw soldiers. They were mown down by the volume of bolts and only two were left standing. Most of the audience clapped their hands at the results while Hannastog barked orders at the Heavy Cannon crews who were aiming their weapons at the mock wall.

'Take aim,' he shouted. 'FIRE!'

Two heavy iron balls were launched from the cannons amidst a great cloud of flame and they glided through the air towards the wall. The two cannon balls smashed into the stone causing massive damage but not destroy it. The cannons were reloaded as quickly as possible and the next volley brought the wall down.

The clapping that followed was extensive as those in attendance, especially the army officers, quickly went to inspect the damage done while my uncle quickly went to speak with Hannastog.

'Congratulations my friend,' he said as they shook hands. 'Your men have been well trained in the use of these weapons.'

'You deserve as much of the congratulations James. Once all the Heavy Cannons are finished I'll try to persuade the king to fund the Ribault weapon you designed for us.'

'I didn't design it,' my uncle told him. 'I'm just repurposing the design for my new home.'

'Either way you deserve as much credit. I saw how powerful these weapons were against Trolls. They're useless now.'

'I wouldn't go that far. These weapons aren't perfect.'

'That's true,' a new voice said and my uncle inwardly groaned as he and Hannastog turned to face Lord Cyllcoth. 'Slow loading, difficult to move, only accurate in numbers. A ballista or trebuchet can do the same job as a cannon and a group of bowmen could deal with infantry even better.'

'But it takes years to train a good archer,' my uncle reminded him. 'Besides, these weapons put the fear of God into the enemy.'

'I can imagine. Is it true that one of the Hand Cannons exploded nearly killing the Fire Hand using it?'

'Yes it was an unfortunate accident but the Fire Hand recovered. He's one of the men you've seen here today.'

'Then he's a fool to use one of these. I don't think your weapons have a future.'

'I disagree,' Aragorn said as he joined the group. 'These weapons will never completely replace the more traditional weapons of our country but they will prove themselves to be useful.'

'If you are sure Your Majesty,' Cyllcoth said with a bow. 'I do disagree though. None of my men will ever use these.'

'I'm not surprised. They will only ever be used with my direct permission.'

'I see. If you don't mind Your Majesty I have important matters to see to,' Cyllcoth said and turned around to leave.'

'I'm sorry about him,' Aragorn said to my uncle and Hannastog. 'I wish I could remove him from the Royal Council.'

'But if you do he'll just cause more trouble than it's worth,' my uncle guessed.

'Correct.'

'Politics,' my uncle sighed. 'The only problem more annoying than Orc's.'

Aragorn chuckled at that comment.

'I see a bright future for these weapons. I think that they may be put to use soon.'

'I beg your pardon.'

'We've defeated Sauron but there are still remnants of his forces. Bands of Orcs have been attacking isolated villages in Gondor so I am planning an expedition to defeat them.'

'Will you need my knight's support?'

'Possibly. Your Order is still small though and I don't want to risk its future.'

'If you need us we'll be happy to help.'

'Thank you James. I'll let you know if I need anything.'

Aragorn then walked away to speak with a few other officers while my uncle continued his discussion with Hannastog.

'In regards to my son Markus,' he said to Hannastog, 'what is your opinion of him?'

'He's a good man and soldier,' he responded. 'I think I know why you're bringing this up so we'll continue this discussion later.'

'Agreed.'

'I'll see you tomorrow at my house for lunch then.'

'I look forward to it.'

 **Happy New Year! It's been an incredible year hasn't it. From the tragedy in Paris to the joys of me confessing that I did most of my research into handcannons by playing Medieval 2 Total War. What an amazing year.**

 **AN: Sorry for being a little late with this one. What do you think of this one. Not my best chapter ever but I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **So, what do you think James meant about Markus? You'll find out soon.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm glad that you thought it was funny.**

 **As ever, keep reviewing, and Have a nice Day.**


	9. Chapter 9 Good Arrangements

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Nine

Good Arrangements

Hannastog and my uncle, as ever dressed in his scarlet cloak, walked out of Hannastog's house in the fourth level of Minas Tirith after a good meal.

'You're cook is very good,' my uncle commented. 'That is the best beef I've had in years. Tell him that I'm also grateful that he remembered to cut my meat for me before hand. Since the siege it's become difficult for me,' he said as he gestured with what was left of his arm.

'I'll give him your thanks,' Hannastog said. 'I'm also glad we could come to an agreement.'

'We'll arrange their meeting at my birthday tomorrow. Usually I dislike my birthday celebration but it's the best excuse I can think of.'

'Who else will be there?'

'My other son and my nephew along with the Council, a few of the knights and some officers of the army. It won't be a large event.'

'Good. We completely agree that if they dislike each other the deals off.'

'Of course.'

'I'll see you there then.'

'Excellent,' the shook hands again and went their separate ways, my uncle to the barracks and Hannastog to the Black Powder Store.

...

'Doesn't he hate his birthday?' Rickard asked us.

It was just the usual group of us, Rickard, Markus, myself, Mathew and Edmund, sitting at our table in The Long Sword.

'He doesn't hate it,' Markus disagreed. 'I just don't think he likes getting old.'

'He's the only man over seventy I've met who can take on a Troll singlehanded,' Mathew enthusiastically said.

'Apart from the King,' I told him.

'How old is the King?'Mathew asked me.

'Eighty seven,' I answered.

After a moment of surprised silence, Markus was the first to come to a conclusion.

'He's a descendant of Numenor?'

'Where did you learn that?'

'Unlike most of you I don't spend my free time smoking and drinking. The Hall of Records is very good, if a little disorganised. I read about Numenor and it's as if Plato **[1]** himself wrote the history of this world.'

'Who's Plato?' Mathew asked him.

'A philosopher,' Markus answered and moved on. 'As I was saying, he doesn't hate his birthday.'

'It's odd though that he's gladly arranged a party,' I added. 'He's up to something.'

'We'll find out tomorrow,' Rickard said and then drank some of his beer. 'We'll let you know what happens, Mathew.'

'Thanks.'

...

Later that night Markus was in his room. It was the same size as his father's but it appeared much more lived in. The table was covered with books and scrolls he'd borrowed from the records and his armour stood in the corner. Everything was well organised and cleaned. Markus sat in one of his chairs cleaning his sword. It was what he did every evening as a part of his nightly rituals. His attention was pulled away from the sword by a knock on his door.

'Come in,' said Markus.

My uncle walked into the room and looked at the sword in his son's hand.

'Good evening son,' he said as he walked further in.

'Can I help you father?' Markus asked him as he pushed his sword back into its sheath.

'No I just need to talk to you,' he responded as he sat in one of the other chairs.

'Is there a problem?'

'No. You do know that I typically avoid celebrating my birthday but I have broken with tradition this year.'

'We noticed,' Markus told him. 'John thinks you're up to something.'

'You could say I am. As you know I have been friends with Hannastog for a while now. I trust him and he's a reliable man.'

'I know this.'

'And I assume you also know that he has a daughter, Hethnina.'

'Yes. I think I met her once.'

'Hannastog and I have made a marriage agreement between you and her.'

Markus took a moment to take this news in. He was surprised to say the least but he didn't say anything until he could think of the right words.

'I understand,' he said. 'I assume that the point of the party is for her and I to become properly acquainted.'

'That's right. Hannastog and I have agreed that if you and Hethnina dislike each other we'll call off the marriage.'

'Seems fair to me,' Markus agreed. 'I assume that a part of the agreement is her conversion.'

'Hannastog is fine with that as long as Hethnina is made fully aware of our religious doctrine.'

'Then I'll speak with her tomorrow at the party.'

'If you and her agree to do this I'll make the announcement at the end of the party.'

As they talked none of them were aware of the footsteps outside the room they were in.

I sat in my room, Rickard was elsewhere and I was writing a letter to Sunniva. I had only just started when Rickard burst into the room and slammed the door behind him.

'Markus is getting married,' he said in a mix between a hiss and an excited whisper.

'What?' I asked as my attention was pulled away from the letter.

'I was just going up to see Markus when I saw father walking into his room so I decided to wait while they talked. Then I heard them talking through the door and fathers made a marriage deal between Markus and a woman named Hethnina.'

'Do you know what this means?' I asked him. 'I can have revenge at last.'

'Just what I was thinking,' he said and pulled up his chair next to mine. 'I say we launch a campaign of harassment against Markus by saying things that suggest we know but we act oblivious to the whole thing. When it's announced we'll step things up by...'

'Is this what you and Markus did when Sunniva and I started getting close?'

'Getting close? Is that what they're calling it now?' he asked with a wink.

'I hate you sometimes,' I laughed. 'I'm going to enjoy annoying him.'

'We both will.'

Our laughter danced around the room.

'You better change that part,' Rickard said as he looked at the letter.

I snatched it off the table and hid it behind my back.

...

The next night

Rickard and I followed Markus along the corridor towards the Dining Room where the party was to take place. A few of the guests had already arrived and the sounds of music were dancing out of the Dining Room.

'I always liked these engagements,' Rickard said to me.

'As have I,' I agreed.

'What's got you two so comical?' Markus asked us.

'I might have been using something new in my pipe,' Rickard suggested.

'I see,' Markus said with some suspicion.

'Do you think father's got anything important planned?' Rickard said as I held in my laughter.

'Probably not,' Markus answered as he eyes the two of us suspiciously.

'Isn't Hannastog coming as well?' I asked.

'Yes,' Rickard answered quickly. 'As well as his wife, son and daughter.'

'I didn't know,' I said and I saw Markus glaring daggers at the two of us.

'You know don't you?' he asked.

'Know what?' we both asked but I couldn't hold in my laughing.

'Never mind,' he said and walked forwards a little quicker but Rickard and I didn't bother catching up with him.

'I never knew how much fun this was,' I whispered to Rickard.

'Now you know.'

We both hurried to catch up with Markus as we walked into the Dining Room. The tables had been pushed into a large U shape with my uncle at the head and the Council sitting close by. A group of musicians sat in a corner of the room playing music. Most of the guests were officers of the army who came there with members of their family. My uncle sat at the table with a cup of wine in his hand as he talked with Hannastog. Sitting next to him was a woman of about thirty, his wife Hethnera I assumed, then a man a little younger than me, his son Agnaral. Sitting furthest away from Hannastog was a woman of about nineteen or twenty. She had the same black hair and gray eyes of her father but her face bore a strong resemblance to her mother's; Hethnina. When the three of us walked into the room my uncle beckoned us to join him at the table so we did. I noticed that there were two empty seats to my uncles left and the nearest other empty seat was next to Hethnina.

'Rickard, John, you can sit with me,' my uncle told us. 'Markus, you can sit with Hethnina.'

We sat down at our places, Rickard and I staring at Markus as he walked to the seat next to his betrothed.

'Milady,' he said, remembering to remain polite.

'Sir Markus,' she said back as Markus sat next to. 'You can guess that I was surprised when my father told me about this,' she said to Markus.

'I was surprised as well.'

'I understand that for a marriage between us too happen I will have to convert to your religion.'

'Yes that's right. Father Harold's very strict on that.'

'My father has arranged for me to speak with Harold about the details of Christianity. He also said that if we can't cooperate then the marriage will not happen.'

'Yes. It's probably best for the both of us.'

...

The party was enjoyable. Most of the younger guests such as myself enjoyed some dancing to upbeat music while the older guests talked and joked about the days when they were our age doing the same. After all of the dancing and celebrating was done the meal began in earnest with several courses of delicious food.

'Well they haven't argued,' I said to Rickard. I and my cousin were discussing the situation between Markus and Hethnina.

'You're right,' he agreed. 'Do you think this means they'll agree to it?'

'Maybe,' I said. 'Most of the time no one gets the option.'

'What are you two talking about?' Edmund, who was sitting next to us, asked.

'Nothing important,' I answered quickly.

'If you say so,' Edmund said as he turned his attention to clearing what was left of the food on his plate.

Markus and Hethnina then said a few words to my uncle and her father. I couldn't hear them but the pleased looks on the faces of my uncle and Hannastog said a lot. My uncle stood up from his chair and raised his hand up to bring about silence.

'Thank you all for coming to my seventy-eighth birthday,' he said to them all. 'I am extremely grateful that you all came here for more reasons than one. Tonight I have the privilege of announcing the engagement of my eldest son Markus and Hethnina, the daughter of my friend Hannastog.'

Everyone in the room clapped their hands to congratulate the soon to be married couple who sat in dignified silence.

...

'When will the wedding happen?' I asked Markus after the party was finished and we, Rickard, Markus and I, were in Markus's room.

'As soon as the church is finished,' he answered. 'So later this year.'

'Excellent,' I said to him. 'I can't wait to write to Sunniva about this.'

'That reminds me,' he said and, looking at me. 'Will you and Sunniva ever get married?'

'I don't know,' I answered quickly. 'We've only been together for less than a month and she lives in Rohan. I'm not sure yet.'

'I'm not sure either of you have it in you,' Rickard joked as he let a puff of smoke fly from him. I was starting to hate that pipe he always smoked.

'What?' I asked him while Markus rolled his eyes.

'Nothing,' he said with a few more laughs. 'I'm going to go to bed.'

'Fair enough,' I said as I drank a little from my small glass of wine. 'I think I'll do the same later.'

'Goodnight brother,' said Markus.

'See you in the morning.'

 **AN: Hi guys. I know this is a little early but I have a reason. I've got mock exams this week so I'll have no time to write and I don't know when I'll be back. Keep an eye out though.**

 **Also, there's a technical problem with this site which stops reviews showing up. I'll still be able to see them in my emails though.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **KiyaNamiel: I hope this means you won't have to murder Markus.**

 **ATP: Handguns would also explode if the powder wasn't measured correctly. They could put too much in. This was such a problem that the Royal Navy did this to test the strength of guns. They'd load it with five times the amount of powder and fire it. If the gun didn't blow up it was good for service. That or someone just got their hand blown off.**

 **Suna Chunin: Yep, wedding bells.**


	10. Chapter 10 New Objectives

Strangers no More

I don't own anything to do with Lord of the Rings

Chapter Ten

New Objectives

'Good morning,' my uncle said to the rest of the Council sat around the table. It was the morning after the announcement of Markus's engagement. 'There are several matters to discuss today so let's not take too long.'

'Here, here,' Jason agreed.

'Firstly we've received a complaint from the Midwife Society of all things,' my uncle told them. 'Apparently while our men were training in the courtyard the noise we were making disrupted a meal they were having in their building next door.'

'Let me guess,' Jason started, 'they were distracted by watching our men training.'

'Jason,' my uncle warned him.

'Sorry,' he said with a chuckle.

'I've asked them in future to let us know when they have an event on and we'll ask our men to keep the noise down. Next on the agenda is the Church of Saint Mary. Father Harold has completed the design for the main stained glass window. Can you show us?'

'With pleasure,' he responded as he pushed a large sheet onto the table.

The picture was of Saint Mary with her arms outstretched. Around her head was a halo and on the ground in front of her was the manger holding the Lord as a child. Although there was no colour the drawing did say that she'd be wearing blue and white.

'Very good,' Markus said as he examined it.

'Agreed,' said Robert.

The old priest then moved two more sheets onto the table, one on each side of Saint Mary.

'Around the main window there will be two next to it. These are the designs for them and how they will be arranged.'

The one on Saint Mary's right depicted a group of Shepherds kneeling on the ground and praying to the small form of Jesus while the one on her left stood the three Kings, each one holding their gift and were respectfully bowing their heads.

'I look forward to seeing the church when it's finished,' my uncle said and nodded his head. 'I feel that we all approve of this design?'

The Council agreed and Father Harold took the pictures off the table.

'The next and final item on today's agenda is in regards to the attacks occurring throughout the region of Lossarnarch.'

'Go on,' Robert instructed.

'The numerous Orc attacks there have been traced to a single source, a small forest in the region. However, scouts have reported that the Orc numbers are larger than any of us thought.'

'How many?' Markus asked him nervously.

'Some three thousand strong.'

'Could be worse,' Jason commented.

'His Majesty is assembling as many soldiers as he can as quickly as he can. He has also asked us for support if we are willing to provide it.'

'So there's going to be a fight?' Jason asked him.

'Yes.'

'Then let's get ready!'

'Thirty will go,' my uncle told them. 'No more than that.'

'I'll ask for volunteers,' said Robert. 'I assume that a member of the Council should go to take command of our contingent.'

'Yes. I myself am in no condition to fight in a battle so I can't go,' my uncle said with a little sadness. 'Robert, I would like you to lead our men.'

'It will be my honour.'

'I'll go as well,' Jason volunteered.

'Excellent. Find the volunteers by tomorrow. Is there anything else to bring up?' when no one commented my uncle adjourned the meeting.

...

'Of course I'm volunteering,' I told Rickard as I polished my sword.

My cousin was sitting on his bed putting something in his pipe.

'Me too,' he said. 'We've been sitting around on our arses too long.'

'It's not a massive Orc army like we faced during the war,' I went on as I turned Alaric over in my hand. 'With the forces the king has ready it won't be a hard battle.'

'Since when have you been so cocky?' Rickard asked me.

'I'm not cocky,' I told him.

'If you say so. Are you going to let Sunniva know you're joining up for this?'

'Of course. Did Markus say if he was coming?'

'No, your father decided that it was best for him to stay here. He doesn't want more than two members of the Council away in a battle at one time.'

'That and he wouldn't want his future daughter in law worried,' Rickard reminded me. 'Or his future niece in law.'

'Shut up,' I told him.

'If you insist. So when are we going?'

'In a week.'

'Mathew said he's coming as well,' Rickard told me.

'Good. He's a great fighter. We'll need him.'

'And Edmund's buying him a suit of armour,' Rickard continued.

'Really?' I asked him, surprised.

'Yes. I think he's sort of taken Mathew under his wing a little.'

'Well he lost his brothers in the war. The more friends he has the better.'

'We always go to The Long Sword together. That's a start.'

After that I started writing a letter to Sunniva. It felt so strange to be writing to her as something more than a friend. Actually, strange would be the wrong word. I had never felt so happy to write to someone and I knew that she felt the same. In a way it was liberating but I didn't enjoy telling her I was going off to another battle.

 _My dearest Sunniva_

 _I know that you will not like what I am about to tell you but I must write it here. There have been Orc attacks in Gondor and I have volunteered to join the force which will fight them. I don't think it will be a hard battle so I will write again as soon as I can._

 _I do have some happy news though. Markus is getting married to a young woman named Hethnina, it was announced last night at my uncle's birthday. As far as I can tell she is a good person and I think that Markus is happy to be marrying her._

...

For posterity I shall write the names of the thirty volunteers here. Robert of Essex, Jason Bridge, Anthony Barley, Rickard Harris, myself, Mark Arms, Hugh Graham, Arnold Ward, Adam Wilson, Steven Mathewson, Arthur Waters, Simon Wayne, Martin Peters, Calum Thornton, James Thornton, Carl Frankton, Watt Cobbler, Harrison Yarrik, Daniel of Newcastle, Philippe Newman, Felix Clark, Adam Brightman, Gerard Crawford, Raymond Kin, Luke of Northumbria, Benjamin Blunt, Arthur Mason, Normal Hasselrig, Erik Wordsmith and Isaac Turner.

...

The Royal Black Powder Force had its base in the Fourth Level of Minas Tirith. It was a large walled compound which contained a store house for the weapons as well as a larger store room for the large amount of powder that had been made. There were also workshops for the making of the weapons and ammunition. In the centre however was a training yard where the latest batch of Hand Cannons and the soldiers who would use them were being put to the test. My uncle stood there with Hannastog and a few officers as a Captain shouted orders. Fifty new Fire Hands stood in front of my uncle and the others aiming their weapons at the targets set up for them. They stood in two ranks, in a zigzag fashion, nervously gripping their weapons.

'Front rank level,' the Captain ordered and the front rank pointed their weapons at the targets, resting their weapons on their Y shaped poles. 'FIRE!'

They touched their weapons with the matches and the normal crack and cloud of smoke appeared. When they had fired the Captain gave new orders.

'Front rank, reload! Rear rank level. FIRE!'

They followed his orders and let loose a new wave of bolts at the targets. While the rear rank was firing the front rank was reloading. It wasn't a fast process as they had to pour in new powder, place in the bolt and then make sure it was tightly in by pushing it in with a ram rod. It took about thirty seconds altogether but sometimes a little longer. When they were all reloaded they fired their weapons again and so did the second rank. They repeated this cycle until they had each fired five times and then those in attendance clapped their hands, apart from my uncle.

'Well done,' Hannastog congratulated them as he walked through the wall of smoke created by the weapons to inspect the damage done to the targets with my uncle.

What they saw was what they expected. The bolts had hit the targets but they were scattered wildly about the targets, this time they were shields. A few had missed and hit the wall behind it.

'Increasing the numbers of Fire Hands has improved it very much,' Hannastog commented. 'They're still very inaccurate though.'

'That and the smoke,' my uncle said to his friend. 'It's like shooting through fog.'

'Can we do anything to stop it?'

'Stand up wind of the enemy. That should disperse the smoke and drive it onto them. I also heard rumours from merchants far away that there was a type of powder that produced much less smoke. Then again they also spoke of cavalry who used silk as armour so I wouldn't trust them.'

'We just need to remind the men that they have to keep their weapons steady.'

'I know. It's a problem these weapons have always had. We'll just have to deal with it.'

'I'll order the men to keep practising.'

'I do have one other concern though.'

'And that is?'

'All of the Fire Hands have never practiced together so they may reload at their own pace. These weapons can only be used effectively in mass volleys.'

'And we don't have enough space in this courtyard for all of them to practice together,' said Hannastog. 'I'll ask the king for permission to practice in Pelannor again.'

'Good idea.'

'Captain Borson,' Hannastog shouted.

'Sir,' Borson said as he hurried towards them.

'Instruct the men to fire another five volleys and then dismiss them. Sir James and I have matters to discuss.'

'Yes sir,' he responded with a salute and walked back to the men.

My uncle and Hannastog walked to the study, a small building next to the courtyard. The walls were covered with shelves filled with papers, mostly designs for weapons that were yet to be built. There were also orders for the materials needed to make the black powder, some of which were hard to come by; sulphur in particular had to be brought into Gondor from Mordor. There were two desks as well, one for my uncle and the larger one for Hannastog. When they had both sat in their chairs they looked at a few papers for a moment before they started talking.

'I'm glad Hethnina is happy with marrying your son,' Hannastog said to my uncle.

'As am I. She is to talk with Father Harold today about Christianity.'

'Excellent. However, we have important business to deal with.'

'I know. What did the king think when you showed him the Ribault design.'

'He is interested but he won't give permission to build it until the weapons we have already prove effective in a pitched battle.'

'Understandable.'

'And many in the Royal Council are against spending much more money on our weapons. They don't think it's wise to waste money on more weapons just after a war, especially with the kings plans for rebuilding the city.'

'Who led this group?'

'Take a guess.'

'Cyllcoth?'

'How did you guess?

'It wasn't hard. Has the king approved the use of these weapons in the upcoming campaign?'

'He told me that he wants them used just this morning.'

'Perfect. If this won't convince the Royal Council of the worth of these weapons nothing will,' the crack of guns firing outside filled the air. Nostalgically my uncle smiled. 'I remember when my main concern was dealing with the serfs on my land in England. It was easier than leading an order of knights and advising on the use of guns.'

'It must be. Have you been to the lands you were given as a reward yet?'

'I've not had the time. Just too much to do.'

'You're a decade older than I. With your duties as my advisor and as Grand Master of the English Knights I can see why you may be feeling tired about everything.'

'I'm not that old,' my uncle told him. 'I think I have at least a decade left in me.'

'I'd hope so indeed.'

...

'A very interesting tale,' Hethnina said to Father Harold.

They were walking past the construction yard for the church of Saint Mary. He'd been explaining to her the history of Christianity and he felt that it would be best to walk around the busy yard where the wedding would take place later that year.

'After hearing all of that do you agree to become a Christian?'

'I think so,' she agreed. 'As far as I can tell there's nothing wrong with it. After my christening I would be interested to learn more.'

Father Harold chuckled for a moment.

'I think that you and Markus will get on very well.'

'Yes. He did say that he is interested in learning the history of this world. It feels so strange saying that.'

'To be honest I am still not used to saying it.'

'Well I am personally interested in learning about your world, or at least your country which many of you speak so fondly of.'

After thinking for a moment Father Harold responded.

'I may be able to help you there. There was once a learned man named Bede who wrote a history of England. I own a copy of his writings which I could lend you.'

At that a smile spread across Hethnina's face.

'Thank you very much Harol-, I mean Father Harold.'

'I'll let you borrow it the next time I see you.'

 **AN: Hello. This was a little late but this one is out now. I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. I've set up the next big part of the story which I hope you will all enjoy. What do you think of Hethnina here?**

 **Review Responses:**

 **KiyaNamiel: I take it you found the last chapter funny. As to John and Sunniva, no comment.**

 **ATP: I assume you were referring to the Battle of Castillon. Essentially the French just released volley after volley at the English. However, the English only broke after a French cavalry charge broke the English. This is because at the time guns were only useful when used in combined arms warfare.**

 **I hope that this doesn't count as hidden enemy ex machina.**


	11. Chapter 11 The Army Ammassed

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Eleven

The Army Amassed

His Majesty had amassed a force large enough to deal with the Orc force in a very short amount of time. The force numbered just over two thousand five hundred men, including three hundred cavalry. We'd also been told that a small force from Lossarnarch would join with us. We would be outnumbered but just slightly. The force was camped in Pelannor in a vast sea of tents.

'Faster!'

Hannastog and my uncle watched the Fire Hands reloading their weapons. All one hundred and fifty of them stood in two ranks in a zigzag formation with the front rank almost ready to fire.

'I want each weapon reloaded in thirty seconds!' Hannastog ordered.

'Front rank is ready to fire sir!' Captain Borson reported.

'FIRE!' Hannastog ordered and the normal thunderclap and cloud of smoke filled the air.

The second rank, which was half way ready to fire, worked as fast as they could to meet the thirty second time frame. If all went well there would be one volley of bolts every fifteen seconds. With such a rate of fire the enemy would take massive casualties as they advanced across open ground. The front rank started to reload as well while Captain Borson kept his eyes on the second rank, waiting for them all to finish. Borson himself didn't carry a Hand Cannon but instead held a sword.

'Second rank ready!' he reported.

'FIRE!' Hannastog shouted.

The next volley of bolts flew through the air at the targets down field.

'The Orcs won't know what they're coming towards,' Hannastog said to my uncle.

'If I had this number of Fire Hands during the siege the Orcs wouldn't have made it past the gates.'

'I'm glad that you're confident in your weapon,' Aragorn said as he walked towards them.

'Thank you You're Majesty,' my uncle said and gave him a short bow as Hannastog gave the next order to fire.

'I don't mean any offence but black powder costs a large amount of money. I'd prefer it that you saved some for the battle,' Aragorn told the two of them.

'Cease fire!' Hannastog ordered and the Fire Hands stopped their firing. 'Captain Borson, order the men to clean their weapons.'

'Yes sir.'

While the Fire Hands cleaned their weapons, a very simple thing task to perform, Aragorn talked with my uncle and Hannastog.

'I'm glad to see that you have managed to forge the Fire Hands into a well disciplined force,' he congratulated them.

'Most of the credit should go to Hannastog,' my uncle told the king as he tried to promote his friends reputation. 'His strict training regime has proven extremely effective.'

'That is the reason I appointed you Hannastog,' Aragorn said to Hannastog. 'You have a long reputation as a talented disciplinarian.'

'Thank you You're Majesty. If I may say so but your appointing of me to the leader of this group was the best posting I could have received.'

'How so?'

'Before this I was just one officer in the army. I didn't have many well known victories and my family has always been one of minor nobles. Now I am the commander of the newest weapon in our arsenal.'

'To be honest my decision in giving the position to you was heavily criticized by some of my advisors,' Aragorn told him.

'Why?' my uncle asked.

'Some of them felt a better known officer would be better for the post,' he explained before smiling in approval at Hannastog. 'I'm glad that they have proven wrong.'

'Thank you You're Majesty,' Hannastog said with pride.

'You're welcome. I mostly came here to offer my congratulations. I understand that Markus and Hethnina are to be married.'

'They are,' my uncle said happily.

'If anything this shows the trust between the two of you. Give your children my congratulations.'

'We will,' Hannastog said as a messenger quickly walked up to the King. After they exchanged a few words Aragorn said that he had to go. Once he had left Hannastog went to inspect the Hand Cannons.

...

Fifteen pairs of us, those of us who had volunteered to fight in the coming battle, were training as hard as we could. To my and Rickard's left Jason, wearing his half plate and Mathew in his full plate were fighting each other.

Mathew's new armour was made up of a suit of Gondorian armour but there were several differences. Firstly, there were no faulds to protect the legs, instead there was armoured plate, as well as heavier mail armour to protect the joints as well as extra armour to protect the back of his legs. His hands were protected by gauntlets and a snout visor bascinet guarded his head. The most notable difference though was the engraving on the chest plate, an ornate cruciform shape had replaced the White Tree of Gondor.

Jason swung his billhook at Mathew but he blocked it with his sword. Jason quickly hooked the weapon, pulled it out of Mathew's hand and then kicked him hard in the chest knocking him down.

'You're too slow,' barked Jason.

'The armour's heavy,' said Mathew, his voice muffled by the helmet.

'Work with the armour,' Jason told him. 'It slows you down but that's no problem. Stay slow, think like a rock and remember that I have more reach,' he swung his billhook through the air to prove his point.

Mathew came back up to his feet and picked up his sword before getting back into a fighting stance. Before they could fight again Robert, wearing his armour with the visor of his helmet up and holding a shield in one hand, approached them.

'I think I'll deal with young Mathew,' he told Jason. 'You may take Wordsmith.'

'Alright,' Jason said as he rested his billhook on his shoulder and walked towards the other knight.

Robert looked at Mathew in his new armour and nodded to himself.

'Lift up your visor.'

Mathew did so revealing his red face.

'You have to remember that you are not as fast in that armour. You'll get tired very quickly and then your opponent will kill you.'

'How can I do better?' Mathew asked him.

'Time your attacks correctly. Get me when I'm not ready to defend against you.'

'Yes,' Mathew said as he pulled his visor back down and positioned his shield between him and Robert.

Robert pulled down his visor and withdrew from his sheath a great sword. Robert attacked first, swinging twice at Mathew who blocked each stroke of the sword with his shield.

'Attack me!' Robert shouted.

Mathew punched at Robert with his shield but the older knight stepped back in time to avoid it. Robert lifted up his sword and swung at Mathew again in a huge sweeping arc but Mathew was able to stop the blow with his shield which creaked badly as the blade connected with it. Robert pulled the blade away and flipped his weapon so he was gripping the blade with his gauntlets. With a mighty swing he knocked the shield off Mathews arm and with another swing he hooked Mathew in the back of the knee and pulled him onto the ground.

'Not bad,' Robert said as he pulled Mathew up. 'You need to show more killer instinct.'

'I try,' Mathew said as he pushed up his visor.

'Then try harder,' Robert told him and they got into fighting stances.

Robert swung at him and Mathew backed off. At Robert's next swing he blocked it with his shield and barged forwards pushing Robert back a little. As quickly as he could, Robert disengaged and backed off, waiting for Mathew to attack. The young man came at Robert swinging his sword in a large overhead arc which Robert caught with his own blade. Mathew slammed the edge of his shield into Roberts side pushing him back again.

'Good,' Robert told him. 'You're improving.'

Before they could start again a knight walked up to Robert.

'Sir, there is a man to see you inside.'

'Very well,' Robert said as he pushed his sword back into his sheath. 'Mathew, watch some of the others. Try to learn something.'

'I can fight,' Mathew told him.

'I know. You just need to get used to fighting as a real knight.'

I and Rickard barely noticed the discussion as we practiced with our own weapons. Rickard used his sword and shield while I used my poleaxe which, I hoped, wouldn't end up breaking like my previous one did. I jabbed at him but he knocked the blow out of the way with his shield.

'Not bad,' I told him as I tried to hook my weapon behind his ankle but he saw this one coming and jumped out of the way.

'More like excellent,' he joked and swung his sword at me which I blocked with the metal reinforced shaft of my poleaxe.

I quickly swung the butt of my weapon into the side of his helmeted head which threw him to the side. I then moved in quickly, hooking the end of my poleaxe around the rim of his shield and pulled hard, yanking the shield away from him which clattered to the ground. I then forced the spiked end of my weapon against his neck winning the fight. Rickard laughed and went to pick up his shield while I took a moment to get my breath back.

'Well done,' he complimented me.

'Thanks,' I said as I took off my helmet to get some air onto my face. 'You did well.'

'You won.'

'Only just. I'm glad you weren't using your mace.'

'I'm not that cruel,' he assured me.

...

'So the House of Lancaster and the House of York were fighting for the throne of England?' Hethnina enquired from Markus as they walked down a street.

'That's right. When the war began my father sided with the House of York and, with my uncle, they fought in many battles. Towton, Tewksbury and many others.'

'Which side won the war?' she asked.

'I don't know. I think it was the Lancastrians. They won the most recent battle before we left.'

'Most interesting,' she said as they turned a corner towards Hethnina's house. 'I'll see you tomorrow Markus.'

'I look forward to it,' he responded as they went their separate ways.'

...

The morning when we would begin our march came very quickly. Those of us who volunteered prepared ourselves for the task ahead in our own ways. Some shared quiet goodbyes with their friends, others took last rights from Father Harold in case they didn't return. He also gave each of us a small wooden cross which had been blessed. A few spent some time with their girlfriends, knowing that they may not see them again. Before Rickard and I left to join the rest of the army, my uncle asked us and Markus to see him in his room. The three of us were settled on chairs while my uncle stood by his armour.

'I have always been afraid for you all whenever you went out to war,' he said to us. 'I wish I could be there to make sure you remained safe in the battle.'

'Safe and battle aren't the most common words which appear together,' I reminded him to which he smiled.

'Still, there is a way I can be there in spirit,' he said and walked to his sword hanging over the fireplace. He removed it from its place and he gave it to Rickard. 'Take care of it. Use it well.'

'Father I,' Rickard stammered as he looked at the blade in his hands.

'That sword served me well for decades. I carried it into battle at Tewkesbury and I slew over a dozen Uruk Hai with it. It will serve you well Rickard. John,' he said and looked at me. 'I give you my prayers and I know that you will return home.'

'Thank you uncle,' I said and smiled.

'Now go and may God go with you.'

'He will,' I said as my hand touched the hilt of Alaric at my waist. 'He always has.'

 **AN: Next chapter will be the battle. I hope you liked this chapter and I liked writing it.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Yep, the name creation was a nightmare. That said, Rohirric names are easy because they're basically Saxon names. Gondorian names though, not so easy.**

 **ATP: Excellent. Well, next chapter they'll be fighting the left over Orcs. It also makes sense that Gondor would have to deal with what was left of Mordor's armies.**


	12. Chapter 12 Almost There

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Tolkien purists who are reading my story, I fear that this chapter may annoy you. I'm sorry if that is the case but please remember that this is a mostly film based fanfiction and I am drawing a lot of inspiration from things in the book that weren't in the films so just try to enjoy the story.**

Chapter Twelve

Almost there

The army had moved slowly, mostly thanks to an unfortunate spell of bad weather which made many of the roads extremely muddy. This made it hard to move our supply carts and over two thousand men marching along them made the roads even worse. In addition to that one barrel of black powder had spoiled so Hannastog made sure that all the other barrels were protected by large thick sheets. Still, after two days of marching we came to a stop at a large town named Bain Bloss, ten miles from the place where the Orcs had set up camp. It was obvious that the town had previously come under attack from the recent damage in its stone walls. However, the defences had held strong. When we arrived the people were glad to see us and they happily helped us set up camp south of the town.

In addition to that when we arrived there we were greeted by a force of just over two hundred men wearing mail and armed with large axes that had more of a resemblance to halberds. Their leader was Lord Forlong, commonly known as Forlong the Fat in Minas Tirith because of his massive size. He was the Lord of Lossarnach and a veteran of the War of the Ring when he helped fight against Orc incursions into Southern Gondor.

I, Rickard and Mathew walked into Bain Bloss along with many of the other soldiers. After two days of marching most of us were looking forward to some time to relax. In many ways the town looked like a smaller version of Minas Tirith but the streets were a lot narrower and the building were a little less well maintained. A little rain fell from the sky but it wasn't bad so we just ignored.

'Where first?' Mathew asked us as we pushed our way through the crowded streets.

'Let's just look for an inn,' said Rickard. 'I need some real ale after trying that rubbish the quartermaster's been giving us.'

'Don't blame the quartermaster,' I told my cousin.

'I know he's hoarding the good stuff,' Rickard said firmly as his eyes became fixed on an inn called The Last Sun. 'Let's try that place.'

Rickard was the first in and we saw a room which was already packed with soldiers. Every table was occupied and dozens of men were standing around drinking or leaning against a wall. The three of us quickly left and tried the next inn we could find which was named the Orange Sunrise. That one was less packed and we managed to force our way to a table. As I looked around the packed room I saw one or two men wearing the scarlet cloaks of the Order but most of the patrons at the inn were normal soldiers.

'What does everyone want?' I asked them.

'Just some bread and cheese with beer,' Rickard quickly told me.

'Same,' Mathew agreed.

'Sounds lovely,' I agreed with the two of them and I stood up to order the food but Mathew stopped me.

'I'll get it,' he volunteered.

'It's no problem,' I assured him but he was adamant.

'I'll get it,' he said and walked towards the counter before I could argue otherwise.

'What's gotten into him?' I asked Rickard as I sat back down.

'Dark brown hair,' Rickard listed, 'dark blue dress with pulled up sleeves and standing behind the counter.'

'What?'

He pointed at the counter of the inn so I turned around and, through the crowds, I saw Mathew explaining what food he wanted to a young woman who matched Rickard's description. I just rolled my eyes.

'Battle tomorrow,' Rickard muttered. 'It should be easier than the last one we were in.'

'It feels like another life ago,' I said, remembering the battle of the Black Gates and my hand tapped the pommel of Alaric. 'To be honest I don't mind the fighting. I have more hate for after the battle when we count the cost.'

'Why do you always do that?' Rickard asked me.

'Do what?'

'Touch your sword whenever you think about the Black Gates. I noticed it a while ago.'

After thinking for a few moments about how to answer his question I started my explanation. I told my cousin fully about what happened when I battled the Wraith and it attacked me with the Black Breath. My sword and the light that surrounded it that brought me back and helped me kill the Wraith.

'Wow,' Rickard said when I finished and Mathew echoed him, I hadn't noticed he had returned to sit with us.

'Just don't tell anyone,' I asked them. 'I don't want Alaric becoming a relic.'

'No problem,' Rickard told me. 'The secrets safe with us two.'

The woman who took the order then walked to our table carrying a tray with our food and drinks on it.

'Thank you very much,' I said and took a drink of my beer.

'It looks lovely,' Mathew said before he started eating.

'Just don't ask what they put in the beer,' she warned us in a mock serious voice that turned into a laugh when she saw my horrified expression. 'I was just jesting. Enjoy your food.'

'So are we going to be kill counting again?' Rickard asked me.

'Why not?' I agreed.

'Can I join this one?' Mathew asked us.

'More the merrier I say,' Rickard said and nodded.

'Who won the last one?' Mathew asked us.

'Me for killing the Wraith.'

'It sounds like you should share the credit with someone else,' Rickard joked. 'We all know I'll win though.'

'And why are you so confident?' I asked him.

'I got my father's sword. It never failed him.'

'A sword is nothing compared to the hand that wields it,' I reminded him.

'My hands are perfect,' Rickard told us.

'That's what all the bar maids in Minas Tirith say,' Mathew laughed out and the three of us roared with laughter.

...

Very early the next morning the mood in the camp was very downbeat. We all knew that the battle would begin later that day so we were making our final preparations. I sat by a campfire sharpening my sword with many of the other knights who were either cleaning their armour or doing the same as I was doing. Jason sat not too far away on a boulder sharpening the blade of his billhook. Robert was walking amongst the knights, talking to some of the knights and giving them encouragement. Eventually he reached our campfire.

'How are you feeling?' he asked us.

'Not bad,' Rickard told him. 'I'm ready to kick some Orcs arses in.'

Robert chuckled at my cousin's confidence.

'Good for you. What about you John?'

'I feel good about this. It shouldn't be too hard.'

'I'm glad you think that. I have a job for you as well.'

'What do you need?'

'Mathew isn't anywhere to be seen. Can you try and find him before we start our march to the battlefield.'

'I'll try,' I said and stood up as Robert walked on. 'Rickard, where did we last see him?'

'Last night at the Orange Sunrise. I don't think he left with us.'

'I'll start there then. Do you want to come with me?'

'Nah. I'm busy sharpening my sword.'

To show his point he started sharpening his weapon with much more speed.

I walked away from the camp and back towards Bain Bloss. The streets were far emptier than the night before. Aragorn had ordered the people of the town to fortify themselves inside in case the battle went badly for us. The only people around were members of the local militia and the odd one or two ordinary people. It was easy to find my way to the Orange Sunrise and I found the front door unlocked so I let myself in. After just a quick look I saw Mathew sitting at one of the tables putting on his boots.

'Where were you last night?' I asked him.

'I fell asleep here,' he answered and I noticed he seemed to be in an unusually good mood.

'Are you alright?' I asked him.

'Couldn't be better,' he responded chirpily.

'We better get back to the camp. The army should be leaving in a couple of hours.'

'Let's go then,' he said and stood up.

We were almost at the door when the sound of running feet behind us made us stop and turn around to see the barmaid from the night before hurrying towards us holding a sheathed sword in her hands.

'You almost left this Mathew,' she said to him and handed him the weapon.

'Thanks,' he said and took the weapon before they shared a hug.

'Keep yourself safe,' she said to him.

'I'll try.'

The two of us left the inn as he kept his gaze away from mine.

...

Ten miles from the camp twenty scouts on horseback were looking for anything unusual that may impede the army's progress.

'We won't find anything,' one of them said as his horse stopped to eat some grass.

'You can never be too careful,' the leader, Captain Meaglin, told the young man.

As he said that his eyes scanned a ridge not too far away. He was about to order the men to return to camp when he saw something. A few figures in black armour, no more than five of them, walking on the hill.

'Enemy sighted!' Meaglin shouted and drew his sword, an action his men repeated. 'Charge!'

With a cheer at the thought of being the first to fight the enemy in that campaign, the scouts charged up the hill towards the Orcs. At seeing the scouts thundering up the ridge the Orcs ran towards the top of it, hoping to escape the enemy. Meaglin came close to an Orc and swung down his sword, hacking through the Orcs head. As he stopped to fight a stubborn Orc who decided to stand its ground the rest of his men pursued the rest of the enemy up the ridge. When Meaglin had killed the Orc he looked up the ridge to see that his men had stopped for some reason.

'Captain!' one of his men shouted. 'You need to see this captain!'

Kicking his horse forwards, Meaglin soon joined his comrades on the top of the ridge.

'What do I need to see?' he asked them before he turned his eyes down to see what was behind the ridge. 'My goodness.'

...

I and Rickard were walking near the Kings Tent where all of the important leaders of the army were meeting to discuss the plan for the battle ahead.

'I can't wait to get going,' Rickard said as he tapped the pommel of his fathers sword. 'We'll give those Orcs a kick up the arse they'll never forget.'

'I believe you're right cousin,' I said to him just as all of the officers, including Aragorn and Hannastog, walked out of the Kings Tent.

'Make sure your men are ready to march within the hour,' Aragorn ordered them. 'Within any luck we'll reach the Orcs by early afternoon.'

As they began to walk away back to where there men were the sounds of galloping horses filled the air. Seventeen scouts, bloodied and looking worried, led by Meaglin, thundered past Rickard and I, almost hitting us but we jumped out of their path. Their leader jumped off of his horse and ran straight up to the king.

'They're here!' he shouted. 'Beyond the ridge seven miles to the south but they'll be here in just over an hour!'

Everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing and looked to the king as they awaited his orders.

'Form up the army in front of the camp,' Aragorn ordered his officers before turning to one of the Citadel Guard who held a horn. 'Sound the alert.'

The guard raised the horn to his lips and blew hard into it, sounding a signal to the entire army that it was time for the battle.

...

 **AN: Before anyone says anything I know that Forlong died in the books. You see, I couldn't find the name of his successor and as he wasn't in the films I decided to just put him in here. Also, his men's axes resembling halberds is based on the models produced by Games Workshop.**

 **Now, that part where the scouts discover the Orcs and return to sound the alert is based on a scene in the film Zulu Dawn.**

 **So the first battle of this story will go down next chapter. I'll see you all then.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Yep, Gondorian names are the biggest headache since Donald Trump. The Fire Hands are using the most basic of firearms. I did consider having them advancing to matchlock technology quickly but that wouldn't be realistic at all.**

 **ATP: I know that. I didn't include here because I don't think this will be a big enough danger to warrnet lighting the beacons because let's face it, it must cost a lot of money to keep all of those fires ready to be lit. By the way, do you think the guys who got the job of lighting the beacons must have annoyed someone important? I think they did.**

 **Please review, enjoy and have a nice day.**


	13. Chapter 13 The Battle of Bain Bloss

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirteen

The Battle of Bain Bloss

I looked towards the ridge which the Orc army was waiting behind. From where I was, on the left flank of the army, I could see everything important. On the left flank was about half the cavalry, under the command of Prince Imrahil, and we were just behind the main line of battle. Further to our left was a wood trailing from the ridge to not for from the town of Bain Bloss itself. The centre of the army was held by the infantry, under the direct command of Faramir, which was a large mix of swordsmen, spearmen and archers. In front of the infantry line were the Fire Hands, under the command of Hannastog and Captain Borson. On a low hill behind the infantry were the Heavy Cannons, with plenty of cannon balls and extra powder. On the right flank, on a hill, was the remaining half of the cavalry under the command of Aragorn himself. Where he was he had a good view of the battlefield, a brilliant position for a commander. Along with him were Citadel Guards and signalmen carrying flags, drums and horns to help issue orders. Dozens of flags fluttered in the air, amongst them, over the English Knights, was the Flag of Saint George held by Adam Brightman, the same one which was carried in the war of the Ring. Most of the commanders of companies gave encouraging words to their men but a few were silent. I tightened my grip on my lance and adjusted my arm, feeling the shield weigh on me. As a way to help identify us each member of the Order had been given a shield that boar the Cross of Saint George. Behind us the town of Bain Bloss was ready for a siege if the battle went badly for us. They also had a horn which was to be blown if they needed help. Guards stood on the walls and I knew that every man who could hold a spear was drafted into the local militia. I looked to my left and saw Rickard and Mathew respectively, the both of them had a look of nervousness on their faces.

'What the Hell are they waiting for?' Mathew asked as he flexed his arm holding the lance.

'They're playing games,' I said to him. 'They want to get us nervous.'

'Well they're doing a good job.'

As he said that a brutal war chant started, clawing through the air from behind the ridge.

'Steady,' Jason barked as the chanting continued.

I scanned the top of the ridge with my eyes, looking for anything that indicated enemy movement. I moved my eyes along the ridge when I saw movement. A line of soldiers in black armour moving over the edge of the hill towards us at a march. At the front of this I saw Orcs riding Wargs, about a hundred of them, with a pair of Trolls armed with huge clubs. Behind them came the mass of Orcs, carrying the crude banners which bore a red eye. Looking at them I saw nothing but a tide of hatred and cruelty coming towards us. They banged their weapons against their shields to create a sound like a brutal, endless thunderstorm. At the head of this Orc army was an Orc riding a massive Warg. It carried a massive sword in its hand and let out guttural roars at its underlings.

'I've got a bad feeling about this,' Rickard said to me but I could tell he was trying to raise our spirits.

'I can't imagine why,' I commented as the Orc army came to a halt.

For a few minutes there was silence. I knew this moment well. The moments before the battle began as all those who about to fight prepared themselves for death or glory. A twisted chorus of cruelty and malice went up from the Orc army and we saw movement in their ranks. The front rank opened and, to our horror, we saw a young man, one of the scouts who had been captured by the Orcs, being dragged forwards by a pair of the beasts. They threw him down in front of the Warg carrying their leader. I had to look away but I heard the poor man's screams as the Warg tore him to pieces.

'Sons of Gondor,' Aragorn broke the silence to deliver his speech and rebuild his armies moral, 'we have come here to destroy what's left of Sauron's terror. We must fight them with unwavering courage for they seek nothing more than the destruction of all what we hold dear. Now, harden your hearts and think of your loved ones. We fight for them. Now, sons of Gondor, we claim a great victory!'

We let out a great cheer, proclaiming our belief in what we were fighting for. I myself let out a cheer and lifted my lance into the air and cheered, as if challenging the entire enemy army to single combat. We cheered for victory and retribution for the young scout who suffered such a terrible death. At an order from Aragorn, delivered by a flag being raised, the Heavy Cannons fired. The cannons roared like thunder and the two cannonballs glided towards the Orcs. One overshot the enemy, only killing a few Orcs at the rear of the enemy army. The other couldn't have found a better target. It smashed into the head of one of the Trolls, reducing its head to a cloud of black blood and bone. A few seconds later, after swaying slightly, the Trolls headless body fell backwards, crushing a Warg and its rider. That was when the battle began.

With a guttural roar the Orc commander ordered the attack. The entire army roared as they charged forwards in an uncontrollable mass of cruelty. Leaping across the ground towards our front came the Wargs with the Troll hanging back a little, staying with the infantry.

...

Aragorn looked at the enemy force, doing all he could to not show his nerves. He'd seen battle many times before but the feelings of nervousness before the battle began was always there.

'Sire,' Captain Meaglin said to his king, 'this isn't the entire enemy force. The rest, including another Troll, must be behind the ridge.'

'We'll deal with them when we have to,' Aragorn told the Captain.

...

As Hannastog looked forwards all he could see was a line of Wargs riding towards him and his Fire Hands. Hannastog rode behind the line of Fire Hands on his horse with his sword firmly gripped in his hand.

'Steady men, steady,' he told them. 'You have trained hard for this moment.'

'Enemy are almost within range,' Captain Borson shouted from his position on the right of the line.

'You know what to do Captain,' Hannastog told him.

Borson was silent as he looked on at the Wargs coming towards them. A rustling sound filled the air, Hannastog knew that sound. He looked up and saw a cloud of Gondorian arrows gliding in an arc down towards the enemy.

'Front rank,' Borson ordered as the arrows hit the enemy. 'Level. FIRE!'

From where I was I saw the Fire Hands and archers unleashing their volleys onto the Wargs leading the attack. The clouds of smoke filling the air was massive and the wind blew it towards the enemy. The Orcs didn't expect the strength of the combined archer and Hand Cannons volleys which tore the Wargs apart and throwing their riders to the ground. The overwhelming force of our long range fire forced the Warg riders to retreat. That wasn't cause for celebration though. Thousands of Orc infantry and a Troll were bearing down on the infantry line. The Fire Hands let loose volley after volley of heavy metal bolts that punched through the Orcs crude armour.

'Second rank fire!' Borson shouted and his men blasted another volley of bolts at the Orcs.

The Orcs were coming very close to the Fire Hands now. Not far in front of them was planted a wooden stake painted red in the ground. The Fire Hands had been told to retreat once the Orcs reached that stake. When they at last passed the stake the Fire Hands fired one last volley, killing dozens of Orcs, and then retreated through gaps in the main infantry line. Hannastog was the last through and, when he had passed, the gaps in the line were closed creating a wall of wood and steel. In the front rank of the main line was Faramir, armed with a longsword and wearing a full suit of Gondorian armour.

'Hold,' he ordered his men as he raised his sword over his shoulder, ready to swing down at any enemy who would try to fight him.

The Orcs were rushing towards them, coming closer every second. He could hear their crude war cries and curses. In their foul language they praised the memory of the Dark Lord and they hungered for blood. The Orcs crashed into the wall of shields and swords. Faramir swung his sword down, slicing through and Orc's armour, and then thrust his sword beneath another Orcs ribs, cleaving through its heart. The men around Faramir stabbed and sliced with their swords, maintaining their discipline, but the Orcs savagery and weight of numbers slowly pushed the Gondorian line back and claimed the lives of many a brave soldier.

'Cavalry,' Imrahil shouted when he saw a flag being raised from Aragorn's position, 'advance.'

'About damn time,' Rickard said as he ordered his horse into a canter.

At a canter the left cavalry wing advanced forward while the right wing, under Aragorn's command, did the same. We moved as quickly as we could across the battlefield until we had moved to the flank of the Orc army and then circled right, straight towards the Orc force.

'God and the King!' Robert shouted.

I pulled down the visor of my helmet and lowered my lance. The ground beneath me became a blur and the air that rushed through my visor stung at my eyes. When the Orcs directly in our path realised that we were about to hit them they panicked. Some turned their weapons to face us but most tried to get out of the way by pushing through their own lines. I aimed my lance at the closest Orc, a creature armed with an axe and a shield and sent Augustus into a charge. As I and the other knights crossed the last few yards between us and the Orcs I said a prayer under my breath.

'Grant us victory father.'

My lance impaled the Orc through the neck and I drew Alaric from his sheath. I swung down, slicing an Orcs head off and then I stabbed one down through the shoulder. I hit another with the flat side of my sword, knocking it to the ground and it was quickly killed when Augustus slammed his hoof into its head. Not far away from me one of our knights was thrown through the air when his horse died. Both of the cavalry wings smashed through the Orc army. With each swing of Alaric I killed an Orc, slicing through armour flesh and bone as if it was nothing but paper. Men roared as they pushed the Orcs back and horses whinnied as they fell dead. I couldn't see Rickard or Mathew, they were both lost in the whirlwind of battle. Clouds of blood splattered through the air with each sword swing and stab from lance. An Orc swung a rusty billhook directly at my head so I made to block it with Alaric. When my blade collided with the head of the billhook the weapon shattered apart but Augustus was moving so fast that I had no time to think about what that meant. The Orcs were being driven before us like sand against the tide as the irresistible force of the cavalry shattered their lines. In the centre of the Orc army however stood the Troll, its massive club killing scores of men and horses with each swing. The leader of the Orc army sat on its Warg just behind the Troll and a look of worry was carved into its twisted face.

'Stay away from the Troll!' Aragorn's voice shouted over the din of battle. 'Bring up the Fire Hands!'

The Orc commander, seeing the circle that was about to form around him, took his last chance to escape. He and his Warg ran away as fast as possible to join his retreating forces. The only forces he had left was about twenty Wargs and their riders who had rallied after fleeing earlier in the battle. He quickly joined them and they hurried away from the battle. I didn't pay attention to them though. Instead I was more focused on dealing with a few pockets of Orc who were stubbornly holding out against us. I rode along the edge of a circle of Orcs and swung down at them slicing one across the neck. The infantry charged the Orcs and they were soon cut down to ribbons. Breathing heavily from the fighting I glanced at Alaric and took a double glance when I thought I saw something. I looked again and, through the thick black blood that covered it, I saw a slight orange light glinting along the length of the blade. For just a few moments I starred at the light in the blade until the roar of the Troll brought me back into the battle. Hannastog and twenty of the Fire Hands, the rest were behind the line, were aiming their weapons at the Troll.

'Fire!' Hannastog shouted and his men unleashed their weapons power upon the Troll, killing it instantly.

When the beast fell dead the men cheered and Aragorn rallied the entire cavalry force and, as one, we chased after the retreating Orcs who were starting to rally near the top of the ridge. As we charged I found myself next to Rickard who was using his mace instead of his lance. I just nodded to him as we came closer to the Orcs who, once again, were starting to retreat rather than face a full cavalry charge. They couldn't run fast enough. As they ran we sliced them down. Rickard smashed one on the top of the head, launching a spray of blood and bone in every direction. Just as we came to the top of the hill we came to a stop at what we saw. Nothing. All we saw a few Orcs and their leader with his Wargs but they were too far away for us to give chase.

'There should be more,' Aragorn, who was further along the line, said to Imrahil. 'Captain Meaglin said there were more Orcs waiting here.'

'They must have fled,' Imrahil said but he didn't seem so sure of it himself.

Aragorn led us down the slope of the ridge to where the Orc army had before. We saw the remains of crude tents and fire pits. Eventually we reached a spot where Aragorn climbed off his horse and crouched by a set of large tracks.

'A Troll was standing here,' I heard him say.

'I can still smell it,' Rickard said to me.

Aragorn followed the tracks towards the wood where a few trees were uprooted.

'The Orcs weren't in reserve,' Aragorn said as the colour drained from his face and the sound of a horn filled the air.

'The town,' Robert cursed as he turned around his horse.

'The bastards,' Jason growled.

Aragorn at once jumped back onto his horse and we were all soon galloping back to Bain Bloth.

...

The Troll swung its massive club against the East Gates of Bain Bloth again. This time however the gates were smashed open. Just as that happened a few more arrows finished off the Troll but that did nothing to stop the hundreds of Orcs which poured through the gate, swarming the militia. They charged through the streets, slicing apart anyone who they came across be it man woman or child. Not even the animals were spared the bloodlust. Orcs armed with torches threw them through windows to set the buildings on fire only adding to the madness.

Inside the Orange Sunrise Inn, the Innkeeper, Calos, rushed inside wearing a mail shirt and carrying a sword, both relics from his days in the army. He slammed the door behind him and quickly pushed a table against it.

'Dad what's going on?'

Calos looked to the stairs where he saw his daughter, Altrisa, standing their holding a poker from the fire.

'Get upstairs!' he shouted as something smashed against the door from the outside. 'Get your mum and lock yourselves in our room!'

'What about you?'

'I'll be fine, just go!'

As he said that something smashed against the door again cracking it. Altrisa stood rooted to the spot, too scared to move, while Calos backed away towards the foot of the stairs, intent on buying his family as much time as possible. The next blow against the door splintered it, sending chunks of wood everywhere as ten Orcs rushed in. Altrisa screamed and ran up the stairs while Calos got into a fighting stance. He stabbed the first Orc through the neck before hacking another through the collar bone. The next Orc however hit him in the head with a large club knocking the man out. The Orcs leapt over his body as they ran up the stairs.

...

We entered the town through the south gates on foot, leaving our horses outside, and we moved as fast as we could towards the enemy. While we moved through the town itself Faramir and Imrahil were leading forces around the outside of the town to destroy any Orcs who were not inside the walls. A mix of knights, Gondorian infantry and Citadel Guard, led by their king, charged through the town with militiamen joining us. Rickard, Mathew and Jason were with me as we ran through the town, towards the market where we knew the Orcs would be thanks to the sounds of fighting.

We ran into the market where we saw dozens of Orcs slicing their way through the militia. When the beasts saw us however they charged towards us so we did the same.

'Here goes nothing!' Jason declared as he raised his billhook and charged.

I gave out a yell as I ran forwards and I felt Alaric grow warm as we came closer to the enemy. Our two forces clashed and I plunged Alaric into an Orcs stomach. Again I saw the faint orange glow and when I pulled the blade out the wound where I stabbed the Orc let out some smoke. I then hacked into another Orc while Jason cleaved them apart with his bill hook. I saw Rickard wrestle an Orc onto the ground before he smashed his mace into the beasts face three times. In the centre of the battle was Aragorn, slicing apart Orcs with his sword, wiping out any of the creatures that had sought to butcher his people. I swung Alaric down again bringing it across an Orcs face, ripping apart flash and bone, Alaric again creating smoke where it impacted against the enemy. I slashed another Orc across its belly, its intestines spilling out onto the ground, before I plunged the blade into an Orcs face. Our charge had so much force behind it that we broke the Orcs impossibly quickly and we sent them into retreat. We chased them through the streets, cutting down every Orc we found, their black blood spreading across the streets.

I, Rickard, Mathew and Jason ran down an alley where we cornered a pair of Orcs. It was easy to dispatch the two of them so we left as quickly as we could to rejoin the battle. As we hurried down a street Mathew stopped dead in his tracks. Although I couldn't see his face because of the visor on his helmet I could see the direction he was looking. It was the broken door of the Orange Sunrise.

'Christ,' I heard him hiss as he ran towards the Inn and we all went after him.

When we ran in we saw two Orc bodies and Calos, although I didn't know his name at the time, staggering to his feet, a large bruise on his balding head.

'Are you alright?' I asked him.

'Do I look alright?' he shouted and looked at the stairs. 'Atrika, Altrisa!'

The four of us shared a glance before we raced up the stairs to help his wife and daughter. On the stairs we found another Orc body with a poker through its eye socket but we ignored it. Instead we focused on the sounds of screaming. We turned into the corridor where the screams were coming from where we found an Orc armed with an axe standing over the body of a woman in her forties. Her neck had been torn open. Mathew ran ahead and stabbed the Orc straight through before he ran into the room where the screams were coming from. The rest of us came in soon after that where I saw a terrible sight. The girl, Altrisa, was pushed up against a wall by an Orc, the top of her dress torn open and her nose broken. A few other Orcs were in the room watching the heinous display so they were taken by surprise when we came in. In the short fight that followed we killed the Orcs, Mathew killing the one who was holding onto Altrisa, and then he stabbed the body nearly a dozen times before he calmed down. At last he took off his helmet and, when she saw his face, Altrisa hugged him and started crying.

'I'm here,' he assured her. 'It's alright.'

As the three of us looked away from the private moment a soldier ran in. I didn't know him but he looked happy to have found us.

'We've beaten the Orcs. We've won the battle.'

I let out a relieved sigh and took off my helmet for the first time since the battle started. As the air touched my face I looked down at Alaric and saw the faint orange light fading away.

 **AN: Sorry for the slight delay. I do have a reason though. Firstly I have been redoing the early chapters from Stranger in Middle Earth to improve it. I'm not finished that yet though. Also, I'm writing an original story which took up a bit of time.**

 **Now, I hope you liked this chapter. Can you let me know what you thought of Alaric? As ever, please review and give feedback.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP: Thanks for your review. I'm glad you liked the last chapter.**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm glad you're OK with the AU thing I did. Well, I hope that Alaric in this chapter was good for you.**


	14. Chapter 14 Aftermath

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Fourteen

Aftermath

I, Rickard three other knights, Adam Wilson, Felix Clark and Benjamin Blunt, and fifty Gondorian cavalrymen, rode down a road between two fields. Cautiously I glanced from side to side, looking for the enemy. It had been two days since the Battle of Bain Bloss and in that time the army had been working hard. The three hundred and twenty dead soldiers of Gondor, including James Thornton, Carl Frankton, Gerard Crawford, Arnold Ward, Arthur Mason and Norman Hasselrig, all members of our Order, had to be buried quickly. The Orc dead, about four fifths of their army, were burned on pyres to get rid of them. We did not want them buried in the same earth as heroes. The town itself had been badly damaged in the town with twelve building being burned down and a hundred of the townspeople killed. Aragorn guaranteed that the cost of rebuilding the town would come directly from the Royal Treasury. The townsfolk who died were buried in the same mass grave that our soldiers were buried in.

However, there were still surviving Orcs who escaped the battle and they needed to be hunted down. I had volunteered to lead a small force out after a group of Orcs had been sighted not far away but after nearly four hours of searching we had found nothing. Sighing in frustration I tightened my scarlet cloak around my armoured form and looked up at the dark, overcast sky.

'Where the Hell could they be?' Felix grumbled.

'We'll find them,' I told Felix, even though I doubted it myself.

When I felt my stomach rumble I reached into a leather pouch at my belt and pulled out a small piece of bread which I ate quickly. As we rode for a while I started to consider a return to camp, assuming that the Orcs were gone, when I smelt something. Raising my hand to stop the men I scanned the horizon with my eyes.

'Can you smell that?' Rickard asked me.

'Smoke,' I confirmed as I saw a column of smoke rising into the sky just a little more than a quarter of a mile away across the fields.

'There's a farm over there,' one of the Gondorian's told me.

I immediately drew Alaric, which began to flicker orange, and ordered the men to advance. At top speed we galloped across the fields towards the farm and, as we got closer, I realized how bad this was. I could see a farm house, a barn and a few small sheds which were all burning. Next I could see about thirty Orcs running amongst and rejoicing in the slaughter.

'Charge!' I bellowed before shutting the visor on my helmet and my men let out a roar and readied their weapons.

Rickard drew his father's sword, the Gondorian's drew levelled their lances while the other knights raised their swords and axes. Around the farm was a low stone wall that the Orcs were quickly forming up behind. As we cross the short distance between us and the wall a few Orcs armed with bows fired some arrows at us. One of my men was hit in the neck and another had his horse shot. When the animal fell he was thrown off, breaking his arm. Augustus jumped over the wall, kicking an Orc in the head, and when we hit the other side I stabbed an Orc down through the shoulder into its heart. As my men jumped over the wall on their horses the Orcs were quickly thrown into retreat. I swung Alaric down again, the flickering blade shattering the armour and tearing into the foul flesh beneath. Rickard cleaved apart an Orc with his father's sword and then kicked another in the head knocking it down. I pushed up my helmets visor and looked around for the enemy leader. I saw it, an Orc with a massive sword. It was running as fast as it could but one of my men, a Gondorian named Dauron, was closing the distance with his lance aimed at the Orcs back. The Orc ran into a tree and turned around just as Dauron slammed his lance into the Orcs chest and straight through the tree, pinning it there. When the last of the Orcs had been killed I dismounted and walked to the Orc commander, pinned to the tree but just holding onto life.

'Where is the farmer and his family?' I asked it in a cool, even tone, trying to not show emotion.

The Orc cackled, spitting out blood that splattered on my armoured chest.

'In the house,' it laughed through blood. 'Squealed like piglets they did, 'specially the little ones.'

Knowing what he meant I felt my hatred boil and I raised Alaric, the blade glowing brighter than before, and sliced the beasts head clean off and it tumbled to the bloody ground.

'Bastards,' Rickard said to the head. 'What do we do now?'

'Burn the Orcs,' I ordered and pointed Alaric at the head on the ground.

...

By mid afternoon I and my men had made it back to Bain Bloss where I and Rickard quickly went to speak with the king. We had been told that he was in one of the medical tents helping the injured soldiers.

'Are you alright?' Rickard asked me as we walked through the camp towards the medical tent.

'Of course,' I answered. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Since the battle a few days ago you've been a little different than normal. I'm just a bit worried about you.'

'I just suppose that the Orcs are different from our normal enemies back in England. Bandits, they're after loot, Lancastrians, they were after the throne. Even when they devastated villages it had a point. Orcs don't have a reason to do anything. They killed that entire family because they enjoyed it.'

'At least we sent the Orcs to Hell where they belong,' Rickard said just before we reached the tent.

It was massive and held the most badly wounded men who could only be treated by being kept comfortable until they passed on. Just before we walked in a pair of healers walked out carrying a stretcher with a body covered by a red stained sheet on it. We respectfully stood aside as they carried the body away to be buried and then we walked in. Everywhere beds were set up but only half of them were occupied. The rest were occupied by ghostly pale men on the brink of death. Aragorn, looking dishevelled and tired, knelt by a bed holding a soldier. With a mournful sigh Aragorn closed the man's eyes and instructed a pair of men to carry the body away.

'Sire,' I said to Aragorn.

'What did you find John?' he asked me.

'Thirty Orcs and a destroyed farm. The farmers were dead by the time we got there.'

I saw the look of sadness on his face as he took in the news that more of his people had been killed.

'We cut down all the Orcs,' I added. 'We made them pay dearly for their crimes.'

'I see,' said Aragorn. 'Go and get some rest. We'll be returning to Minas Tirith in the morning.'

'Good. Thank you Your Majesty.'

 **AN: I know that was a short chapter but I wouldn't really like to think of this as a chapter. It's more like an epilogue to the first act of this story. I hope you liked it and I'll see you all again soon.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP: Yep, one thing I liked about the Orcs in the Lord of the Rings films was that they weren't random things to kill like stormtroopers but they were good antagonists who had a lot of humour and were in many ways real people.**

 **KiyaNamiel: Don't you dare touch Alaric! One thing I was concerned about was whether or not people would think Alaric being powered again was a bad idea but apparently it's proven to be a popular idea. I loved writing that battle that I based on one I played on Medieval 2 Total War (I am such a damn nerd).**

 **See you all around. Please review, read, favourite and follow.**

 **Have a nice day.**


	15. Chapter 15 Awaiting

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Fifteen

Awaiting

I sat alone on a bench at the edge of Minas Tirith's main market. It was nearly mid day and everywhere I looked it was extremely busy. Hundreds of people shoved their way past each other in the narrow aisles between the stalls. I could hear parents telling their children to stay close by them, groups of youths laughing, stall workers shouting above the din to sell their goods. However, my focus was on the sheet of paper in my hand I had received a few days earlier. Again I studied the writing on it as if to make myself believe it was true.

 _John, I have brilliant news. I got a new job as a servant in King Eomer's court. This means I'll be coming to Minas Tirith soon as a part of the tournament party. When I'm there we'll get to spend some time together._

 _Your love, Sunniva_

The prospect of seeing Sunniva again made me incredibly happy. I welcomed every chance I had of seeing her with open arms and, although I knew she would be busy, we would be able to spend some time together.

Still, I had to stay focused on the events to do with the tournament taking place in four days time. It was being held as a grand opening ceremony for the new Great Gates that the Dwarves from Erebor had given the king as a gift. The Great Gates were truly grand, forged from steel and mithril with the figures of warriors in it, they would represent the cities defiance against Mordor. I stood up from my seat, tucked the letter firmly into my pocket, and then walked quickly towards the Long Sword where the usual group of us would have our lunch. When I reached it I saw how much busier it was than usual, many young nobles from across the kingdom had arrived and they'd taken up every spare room and lodging in the city. This also meant that these nobles, along with their men-at-arms, needed food and drink providing a boon for the local business. I found the others, Markus, Rickard, Edmund and Mathew, at our usual table.

'What took you so long?' Rickard asked me.

'Just reading a letter from Sunniva,' I explained.

'You said she was coming,' Rickard said as he remembered what I told him.

'Which of you are entering the joust?' Edmund asked us.

'I am,' said Markus.

'Me too,' said Rickard.

'I won't,' said Mathew. When he saw our questioning looks he explained why. 'I've never jousted before in my life.'

'There's always a time to learn,' Edmund told him.

'Not enough,' he went on.

'I'm entering,' I told them.

'After what happened last time?' Markus asked me.

'What happened last time?' Edmund asked us.

'I was in a joust and a massive splinter got between the mail under my arm,' I clarified. 'Dislocated my shoulder and I have a massive scar their now. It's no reason for me to stop.'

'If you're sure,' Rickard said and stood up. 'It's my turn to order. Usual?'

We all nodded our agreement, apart from Markus who asked for just a piece of bread and some cheese, and while we waited for Rickard to place the order, we chatted about how the tournament would differ from what we were used to.

'No one's losing their armour or horse,' Markus listed off.

'Good,' said Rickard. 'I'm not asking father to buy me a new suit of armour again.'

'And the matches are decided by lot,' Markus continued. 'But we can still challenge other competitors.'

'What about the melee?' asked Mathew. 'I'm doing that one.'

'Similar to England. We'll be able to choose our own teams for it but the matches between teams are chosen at random. Groups can challenge each other though.'

'I can't wait,' said Edmund. 'I may have a little venture planned as well.'

'What are planning?' I asked him.

'I was able to get my hands on some very good wine for a very cheap price and we all know what the crowds love.'

We chuckled at this as Rickard returned to us.

'They'll bring it over in a minute.'

'When's the group from Rohan arriving?' asked Mathew.

'Tomorrow,' answered Rickard before looking at me. 'Is there anyone you want to see tomorrow John?'

'Shut up,' I jokingly said.

'Don't tease him,' Markus chastised his brother.

'It's just too easy,' Rickard reminded Markus.

'I'll be getting some more practise in later,' said Edmund.

'We've been training all morning,' I reminded him.

'But I don't plan on losing the joust. I play to win.'

'Good luck with that,' I said jokingly. 'So do I.'

We shared a glance for a moment before we started laughing but I knew we were both serious about winning.

'Is it true that King Eomer is competing?' Mathew asked through a mouthful of bread?

'Apparently,' Markus answered him.

...

Later that night Markus and Hethnina walked towards her home. They'd had supper together in a part of the town that was more appropriate than the Long Sword, which was mainly frequented by soldiers. After supper he had offered to walk her home and she had agreed.

'Out of all the things I have seen since coming here I'm most surprised that chess exists in this world,' he said to which Hethnina giggled a little. 'What's so funny?'

'I just think that it's funny how similar our worlds are. You must admit it is odd.'

'I know. It's as if someone designed one world to be based off of the other.'

'So you do play chess then?' Hethnina asked for confirmation.

'Of course. My father taught me how to play.'

'Interesting,' Hethnina murmured. 'I can play as well. Would you care for a game some day?'

'Certainly. When would you wish to play?'

'Tomorrow night?' she suggested. 'At the barracks?'

'That would do. Are you a good player?'

'I'd like to think so.'

'We'll find out tomorrow night.'

At that moment they arrived at Hethnina's house. The light was on in Hannastog's study window.

'I'll see you tomorrow then,' Markus said to his future wife.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' she responded as Markus took her hand and placed a soft kiss on it.

'Good night.'

'Good night.'

When she had walked into her home Markus turned around and left, heading back towards the barracks.

 **AN: I'm back guys. So I hope you enjoyed that chapter, I know it's not my best work but life's been a bit hectic lately.**

 **So there's goanna be a tournament in the next few chapters. What do ya think of that? I don't think they were ever mentioned in Tolkien's works but I think it makes sense for a world which has a basically feudal system in it. Well, that and I've been reading the Gotrek and Felix novels lately (those books are awesome) so I'm a little cynical of the whole noble thing at the moment and tournaments are one of the most stereotype noble things I could think of. Don't worry, I'll get over the cynic thing soon.**

 **Also, I've rewrote chapters one, two and three of "The Stranger in Middle Earth". There will be no effect on the plot so check them out if you want. As a warning, I may have got a little carried away with the over the top violence in the first one but that's what happens when you watch Commando when writing.**

 **Now, review response time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Yeah, what a few writers forget is that Aragorn is both an awesome warrior and an empathetic healer who wants to make sure his people are alright. And by the way, no, you'll never get Alaric. I am resistant to puppy eyes.**

 **ATP: Thanks for your review. Yeah, a lot of people forget that Orcs actually have brains.**

 **Halloween Servent: Thanks for your review. I'm glad you like this story and I'll try to keep up the good work.**


	16. Chapter 16 A long awaited reunion

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Sixteen

A long awaited reunion

Lady Eowyn had come with her brother to watch the tournament and, according to rumour that I haven't been able to confirm, she had promised him that she wouldn't secretly try to compete in any of the events. The Rohan party had arrived earlier that morning and they had spent most of the day making sure everything was unpacked and put into its proper place. As a result I hadn't been able to Sunniva when she's arrived and her work had taken up most of the day. However, the day after that, was another matter entirely. Sunniva managed to send me a message telling me that she had been given that day off by Lady Eowyn. I sent her a message, via a man who I had given some money to, and asked her to meet me by the servant's entrance just before midday if she wanted to spend the day together. When I got her message back, I was glad when I at last saw her answer.

 _Yes._

I was waiting at the arranged meeting place, just by the servant's entrance as I tapped the pommel of Alaric. That day I was wearing a brown cloak instead of my red one as I didn't want to be noticed too much. As I wondered if Sunniva would like what I'd planned for the day I looked up at the clear blue sky. It was a slightly warm day but not as hot as it would be by the middle of summer. I was looking away from the door when it opened and the first indication I got that it had opened was the sound of a person clearing their throat. I turned around slowly to see her standing there. Sunniva was wearing a new green dress and her hair was in its usual simple braid. She was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed.

'Sunniva,' I said and stepped towards her.

'John,' she said and didn't move but she did arch her eye brow.

'You look beautiful,' I said and gestured at her dress.

'Thanks. My new job helps out a lot.'

'I can imagine,' I said and by now I was standing only inches from her.

I gently kissed her on her lips and she returned it while I wrapped my arms around her waist. When we ended the kiss she rested her head on my chest for a few moments.

'I've been waiting too long for that,' she said and closed her eyes.

'If only we were together more often.'

She looked up at me and smiled.

'I'd like that.'

I didn't know what to say after that. In stories a man would think of something smart to say but I couldn't think of a good enough response.

'I think we'd better move away from the servant's door,' I said and she agreed.

'So what are we doing?' she asked me as I led her through the streets.

'You'll see,' I answered her. 'How did you persuade Lady Eowyn to give you the day off?'

'According to her there was a rumour around the nobles that we were a couple. Well, they said "courting."'

'I never liked that word,' I said and she laughed.

'I don't either. Anyway, she asked me about if we were and she gave me the day off.'

'That was very good of her.'

'I know. She said that some of the nobles are surprised at us.

'Really?' I asked although I had my suspicions.

'Yes. They all thought the nephew of James Harris would be,' she then put on a mock haughty voice, 'with a Lady of some court somewhere.'

I laughed slightly at the way she said that.

'To be honest you're more of a lady than many women who were born to a title.'

'You think so?' she asked, a little surprised.

'I know so. Here we are.'

We'd reached the stables at last and we quickly walked in. Most of the horses were waiting in their stalls eating horse feed but Augustus was ready to go. A stable hand stood by him, holding his reins.

'Thank you,' I said and tossed the boy a coin and he then nodded his thanks before walking off.

Sunniva looked at the large sack attached to the saddle of my horse and asked me what was in it.

'Supplies,' I answered as I helped her into the saddle. I then took a hold of the reins and led Julius out of the stables.

'For what?' she asked.

'For lunch,' I answered.

We went through the city, slowly making our way through the packed streets where hundreds of people moved around, trying to make it to their destinations as quickly as possible. When we at last reached the newly installed Great Gates the guards let us out quickly. When we were on the other side Sunniva took a moment to look at some of the figures carved from Mithril on the Gates. In particular she looked at the figure of a man. He was in armour and held a Great Sword. His most notable feature though was that he was missing his left arm.

'Your uncle?' she asked as I climbed onto Augustus behind her.

'It's him,' I confirmed and pointed at the figure next to him. 'That is Denethor.'

'The people here idolize your uncle don't they?'

'They do. He's always humble about, claiming he was doing his duty but he knows how great a thing he did. I think he enjoyed being in command.'

'Really?' she asked.

'Yes. He likes a challenge and Minas Tirith was the greatest challenge of his life.'

'I can't imagine what it was like.'

'All of Pelannor was filled with Orcs. It's a sight I'll never forget.'

Just as I said that the sound of powder detonating filled the air.

'What was that?' Sunniva asked me.

'That's just my uncle and Hannastog. They're testing the new cannons today.'

'In the city? Isn't that dangerous?'

'Not really. They're not loading cannon balls into them; they're just loading in twice as much powder. If the cannon explodes they know it's not made right.'

'Good. So where are we going?'

'Not far away,' I answered and commanded Augustus into a canter.

...

Up on the outer wall Cyllcoth looked down on Sunniva and I as we rode away from the city. He shook his head a little and turned to the young man next to him.

'A knight with a commoner like that,' he scoffed.

'The English are an odd group father,' the younger man commented. 'Rumour says that they're going to let commoners into their Order.'

'I heard. It's as if they don't care about the order of the realm.'

Just as he said that another blast filled the air and the younger man groaned.

'Will they ever stop making those damn things?'

'I doubt it. The King seems to believe that they are a brilliant weapon.'

'I don't understand why. They can kill the user.'

'I've tried explaining that to the king but he trusts Harris more than I.'

'Well I'll make sure I show up that son of his at the joust.'

'I hope you do Cynath. You are brilliant at the joust.'

...

I and Sunniva rode along the bank of the Anduin. A few ships went along the river, carrying goods to the city and on the far bank a group of knights were riding towards Osgiliath where they would cross the bridge. At last we made it to a small group of trees where I commanded Augustus to stop.

'What do you think?' I asked Sunniva as we climbed off the horse.

'It's a beautiful place,' she answered as she looked around.

The trees were in a circular shape that allowed us a view of the river but offered us some privacy. After I tied Augustus to a tree by his reins I pulled the sack off of the saddle and placed it on the ground. When I opened it the first thing I pulled out was a large sheet that Sunniva helped me spread across the ground and then I started to pull out the food. A few bread buns, some cheese, ham, pork, apples and two small cakes. We placed them across the sheet and then I pulled out the last items from the sack. Two cups and a bottle of wine.

'Where did you get this?' Sunniva asked as she examined the bottle.

'Edmund,' I answered simply.

'He gave it to you?

'He sold it to me for cheap.'

'Ah.'

We sat down next to each other and began to eat. As we ate our meal we talked about what had been happening recently. Cenric was in Edoras being watched by Sunniva's friend Sewyn. He hadn't been able to come with the party from Rohan but he still wished me and my cousins his best. I also told her about Markus's upcoming wedding and how he and Hethnina had reached a stalemate in a chess match they played.

'She sounds like a nice person. Do you think they, you know, love each other?' she asked me.

'I'm not sure,' I answered. 'Most people like me don't marry for love.'

'I know but it can happen.'

'You're right. I think Markus and Hethnina like each other but I'm not sure about love.'

'That doesn't seem like a nice way to live though.'

'In that case I'm just reminded how lucky we are,' I said and then drank some of my wine.

'I suppose we are lucky,' she agreed and drank some of her wine.

When we put down our cups we moved closer together and I reached my hand around her back and her hand moved to the back of my neck. We kissed each other deeply and I pulled her closer to me. All my senses were focused on her as the kiss deepened. My hand ran through her hair and I slowly felt Sunniva moving onto her back. As she lay there we kept kissing and my hands moved down her waist while here were wrapped around my back. I felt my hand drift to her back when I stopped myself and broke the kiss.

'I'm sorry,' I said and moved myself off of her. 'I shouldn't have, erm.'

'It's alright,' she assured me as she sat up. 'I didn't mind.'

We didn't say anything about it. Instead we shared a far gentler kiss and finished the last of our wine before we decided to head back to Minas Tirith.

 **AN: Hi there, sorry for being a little late this time. I hope you enjoyed this one and I liked writing it. So, the tournament starts next chapter. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again because the next one should be a long chapter.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Well, as Emoer is the King of Rohan, the Horse Lords, it should be interesting.**

 **ATP: Yeah, it wouldn't make sense for them to be always losing their armour. I think that in Gondor knightly orders, such as the Swan Knights, were a lot more uniformed and coherent than knights from our world. See what I mean? I think that the best comparison for Gondor's army would be either the Roman army just before the Mariun reforms where men with a property qualification would join the army and pay for their own kit and the richest, the equestrians, would pay for their own horses, or, and this is a pretty offensive comparison, the New Model Army.**

 **As ever, have a nice day, review, leave criticism and don't skip on leg day.**


	17. AN

Strangers No More

AN

Hi guys, erm, I'm sorry there hasn't been an update yet and I tell you it is coming. Unfortunately it's been a bit hard to write so it may be another week. Also I've been doing work on my other story "Phantom of the Night" and I've started something I thought I'd never do. A LegolasxOC story. Now I know that sounds bad but I've got something new to add to it, trust me. Now then, I think you deserve something so here it is.

I'm going to discuss the inspiration for some of the characters in this story.

John Harris is based heavily on characters like Luke Skywalker. He's an ordinary person, sort of, who is in a bad situation and he is pulled into a mad adventure.

James Harris is heavily inspired by Winston Churchill. They are both men who get the job done and don't care what they have to do to get it done. They are also both intelligent and tough, willing to do anything for success. He's also based a bit on John Chard from the film Zulu (1964).

Markus and Rickard are based, surprisingly enough, on Prince William and Prince Harry. One is well behaved and usually follows the rules while the other is more relaxed and more likely to do what he wants to do.

Father Harold is based on the Bishop from Les Miserables. They are patient people who do what they can to help a situation and try to do what is right no matter what.

Those are the main characters who are inspired by others in this story.

Now for the inspiration for this story. When I was looking through the stories on this site I noticed that Lord of the Rings ones were either 10th walker, complete AU's and non 10th walkers where they never meet the main story. Now,while these are very good I wanted to try a compromise of them and I envisioned a story about a group of soldiers from this world getting pulled into the War of the Ring who owuld see the events in the book and films but not be members of the Fellowship. That was my idea. At one point the soldiers were of the New Model Army from the English Civil War, at another point they were Tommy's from WW1 but I decided on Medieval knights because I thought that would be easiest.

Review Response Time:

KiyaNamiel: Yep trouble but it is on the horizon.

Suna Chunin: Thanks for your review. I don't know how I forget the knights of Saint John. They were so cool at Malta.


	18. Chapter 17 The Drawing of the Names

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **Hi guys sorry I've been so long.**

 **Before we start I would just like to take this opportunity to throw a little rant. If you want to ignore this rant you can stop reading the bold at the start and skip onto the chapter.**

 **I'd like to talk about something which annoys me a lot about historical films, in particular two films. These films are called The Patriot and Kingdom of Heaven. Firstly, the Patriot, which is a film about the American Revolution, annoyed me a lot and not because the British are the bad guys. The thing which annoys me about it is how the film decided that it would be easier to create an overly patriotic film rather than actually show what happened in that war while leaving out anything bad which the American rebels did, such as how after the war thousands of American Loyalists who sided with Britain were kicked out of the country of their birth to never see it again. They also ignored that all of the slaves in America who joined the Continental Army were not given the freedom they were promised for joining up and they ignored the fact that the rights promised to all people of America seemed to ignore the Native Americans for centuries. In the end today America stands as a brilliant democracy which fights for freedom across the world but that is America today, not America back then. My problem is that the role of an historical film is to show what happens and when they do make changes they need to justify it.  
However, the thing which annoys me most about the Patriot is the scene where British troops trapped the people of a town in a church and burned them alive which **_**never**_ **happened! At that point the Patriot lost any right to call itself a historical film. In fact, the closest thing I can find to that happened in WW2 when the SS wiped out a town. All I'm saying is, if you want to make a film where the British are the bad guys make it about something we actually did! You can't make the largest empire in history by being friendly.**

 **My other point is Kingdom of Heaven, a film set in the Crusades. My problem with that film is that they ignored numerous historical points. For example, and please know that I mean no offence to anyone of any religion in what I'm about to say, they portrayed the Crusaders as a bunch of thugs who went to the Holy Land for plunder and to slaughter a peaceful Muslim society. While the Crusaders did many acts which are brutal the film makers ignored the fact that Europe had been under stack by the Muslim world for hundreds of years. They even sacked Rome, the capital of Christian Europe. In the occupied territories the Christian people suffered humiliation and were barely tolerated. In the end BOTH sides committed atrocities which horrify us now but many of which were the norm of the time. Also, this part is hilarious by the way, in the film the King of Jerusalem offered the hand of his sister to a bastard son of a knight. I think anyone who knows anything about medieval society would know that could never happen.**

 **So, the point of all this is that when a film about a historical event is made they have to have an understanding of the environment the film is set in. In fact, I'll give you an example of a historical film which managed to be entertaining, make a few changes and understand the environment it is set in. The film is called Zulu (1964), which is about the Battle of Rorkes Drift where 100 British soldiers fought against 4000 warriors of the Zulu's, a tribe in South Africa, which ended with eleven men winning the Victoria Cross, the highest medal the British armed forces has. The film managed to show what happened and managed to not demonize either side of the conflict. Instead of portraying the British as a bunch of thugs it showed them as a group of men fighting to survive. Instead of making the Zulu's a bunch of savages they showed them as a great people, most notably in the wedding scene at the start, and as soldiers who were fighting for their homeland. While it made a few historical inaccuracies, most notably in the "Men of Harlech" scene, it managed to keep itself close to reality and as a result it has become one of the most famous and timeless British films ever.**

 **Now, rant over, onto the chapter.**

Chapter Seventeen

The Tournament Begins

Pelannor was awash with activity as the final preparations for the tournament were finished. A jousting list and a ring had been built for the events. On one side of the list was a large raised stand where up to two hundred people could sit while a small fence surrounded the rest of the list. While many would watch on the ground others would watch from the city walls. All in all two hundred and fifty knights from Rohan and Gondor had arrived to compete.

On the morning of it I stood in my room in front of a mirror checking that my armour was on properly. It had been cleaned the night before so it would in the bright sunlight. As I adjusted my scarlet cape Rickard walked in wearing his amour and cape.

'Are you ready?' he asked me.

'Of course,' I answered. 'Why wouldn't I be?'

'I was just worried you'd back out,' he confidently answered as he walked to his cupboard.

'I was worried you'd do the same,' I answered and picked up my helmet. 'What are you looking for?'

'A good luck charm,' he answered as he pulled a small, broken rock out of the cupboard.

'Why have you got a rock?'

'I picked it up in Osgiliath,' he explained. 'Killed a few Orcs with it and now I'm carrying it in the tournament.'

'Good for you,' I said and chuckled. 'We'd better get to the Dining Room.'

When he got his helmet we both walked towards the Dining Room where all of the knights who'd be competing had been told to assemble. The room was packed with knights, I and Rickard stood with Markus, all wearing our armour and capes, while my uncle stood at the front of the room on a crate. To my surprise he was wearing his armour as well and the point where his elbow was cut at was covered by a thick pad of red cloth.

'Thank you all for coming,' he said as he looked at us. 'As the leader of this Order I ask you to make a good example of yourselves. You will compete fairly and justly, obeying the rules and following the decisions of the umpire. If any of you do not follow my instructions you will not receive your salary for a month. Is that clear?'

We nodded our understanding and he spoke again.

'Now, I will be watching the events as they unfold and I _will_ see if any of you go against my instructions. Still though,' he said and smiled, 'I want to make sure one of my men win. Let's go.'

We gave a short cheer as we walked out of the Dining Room and then filed down the stairs to the front doors. The street outside was mostly taken up by our horses and I quickly found my way to Augustus. I saw my uncle being helped onto his horse by Jason, he could still ride even with one arm. When I climbed onto Augustus I patted him on the neck and waited for the others to get ready.

'This is going to be great,' I heard Mathew say as he gripped the reins of his horse. 'I'm going to win in the mêlée.

'If you say so,' Rickard joked at him.

'I'll beat the both of you,' I heard Jason shout over at them.

As I looked at the nights I saw that the entire Order was there in armour, apart from Robert who saw no need in wearing armour as he wasn't competing. When Jason climbed onto his horse I saw that he was holding our standard.

'Before we go,' my uncle told us at last, 'I want you to know the Prince Imrahil wishes us luck. He said that we'd have a nightmare beating any of his Swan Knights,' from the way my uncle said it I could tell it was just a joke on Imrahil's part to increase competitiveness. From the jeers the comment received I could tell that it worked. 'Let's go,' my uncle said and commanded his horse into a trot that we all followed.

Jason rode just behind my uncle, holding our standard high to make sure everyone knew who we were. I also noticed that Jason was wearing a new helmet that covered his face, far better for a joust. I once saw one where a knight had forgotten to lower his visor and was struck in the face. He'd lived but was blinded in one eye.

As we rode through the busy streets many people, especially former soldiers and conscripts who'd fought in the siege, waved at my uncle and he smiled in response. Many people still saw my uncle as a hero from the war. As we went through the city we passed a few other knights heading down to the lists as well. They weren't fighting in a battle so uniformity didn't matter as much so they didn't have the White Tree on their shields. Instead they displayed their own heraldry and emblems.

Once we left the city we took our horses to a pen and then we waited by the lists. All of the men competing were there, apart from Eomer, and we waited as the stands by the list were filled. As I looked at the people there I saw Robert, Father Harold and my Uncle sitting in the front row. Sitting next to my uncle was Hannastog and just behind him sat Hethnina with a few of her friends. Further along the front row I noticed Cyllcoth and his wife who were waving at their son, one of the other competitors.

'Where do you think King Eomer is?' I asked Markus. I, he and Rickard were standing together.

'I have no doubt he'll be here soon,' my cousin answered me just as Faramir, along with Eowyn, took their seats in the front row.

'Greetings.'

The three of us turned around and we saw a familiar face. Agnaral, Hannastog's son. He wore a well forged suit of armour and he held a Gondorian jousting helmet under his arm. It was the same shape as normal helmet except for the face. The face was almost completely shielded, apart for the eyes and a tiny slit for the mouth. It completely protected the head from a lance blow.

'It's good to see you again,' Markus said and the two of them shook hands. 'How do you think you'll do?'

'I should do well,' he said with plenty of confidence. 'We should all do well.'

'I hope you're right,' Markus stated as he glanced over at Hethnina and nodded his head slightly.

'Have you heard the rumour going around lately?' Agnaral asked his future brother in law.

'I've heard a few actually.'

'Apparently Cynath plans to challenge you,' he explained.

'I heard. Any reason why?'

'Just to show up you and your father.'

'In that case I'll make sure to throw him from his horse.'

Agnaral laughed at that and nodded his head.

'Make sure you do, Markus. Don't forget, my sister's looking forward to a good show. Don't disappoint her.'

Rickard, who had been listening to them, smiled deviously at the chance that was presented to him there.

'He can't disappoint her. They're not married yet.'

While Markus and Agnaral threw warnings at Rickard, Eomer arrived with a group of nobles from Rohan. They were wearing their best armour and under their arms they carried helmets with full face protection. Up in the stands I noticed that Prince Imrahil had arrived in the front row with one of his son Elphir and his daughter Lothiriel. Just after them came Faramir who was with Eowyn and after them a group of dwarves, who had installed the new gates, led by Gloin himself. The night before he and my uncle had dinner together and they had also brought the rest of my uncle's money in three very large chests.

At last the guests of honour arrived in the stands. the King and Queen walked along the stands until they came to their seats in the centre of the front row. Many people cheered them, applauding their monarch. When they came to their seats Aragorn raised his hand to silence the crowds. He waited for a few moments until everyone was silent before he made his speech.

'People of Gondor and Rohan,' he started, 'today we celebrate the great gift granted to us by our friends the Dwarves of Erebor. The new Great Gates celebrate our victory over Sauron while demonstrating the actions of our lands heroes both of the days of old and more recent times,' when he said that he glanced at my uncle slightly grinned. 'Now, let us celebrate as we leave the dark days of war behind us and embrace a future of peace. Let the tournament begin!'

The people cheered again and, as I looked up at the stands, I saw Sunniva standing by the edge near the stairs. I waved at her and she smiled back before waving.

The way the jousts would take place was organised well. Each competitor was to have three jousts and those who had the fewest wins wouldn't go onto the next round. The winners of the second round would go onto the third round and then the final round was to be held the next morning between the winning two competitors before the melee contests. Eomer had already announced that he would be competing only in the first round. He felt that it was improper to go further than that. Each joust was decided by names being drawn from two bowls on a small stage in front of the stands. One would hold the names of knights, one for each knight, while the other held three of each knights name. The umpire would take a name from the first bowl and then three from the second one. This was used to decide who would face who.

'Here we go,' Rickard said as the first name was drawn by the umpire, an older knight whose name I didn't know.

'It will be me,' I jokingly said to my cousin.

The first name was drawn from the first bowl and the umpire examined it.

'Jason Bridge of the Order of English Knights!' he announced and a few people applauded him. 'Sir Jason, do you challenge another knight?'

'No,' he said to the umpire.

'Very well,' the umpire responded and pulled three names from the bowl. 'Your opponents are Argetho, son of Abaron, Gurnor, son of Gurnil and Virlak of the Swan Knights.'

He then pulled out another name. 'Cynath son of Cyllcoth!' he announced. 'Lord Cynath, do you wish to challenge another knight?'

'Yes,' the young man said as he walked onto the stage. 'I challenge Markus Harris, son of James Harris.'

A slight murmur went up from the crowd and a few people looked at Markus and then at Hethnina.

'Markus Harris, do you accept the challenge?'

'I do,' Markus said confidently.

'Very well,' the umpire then pulled two names from the second bowl.

For the next ten minutes the names were drawn from the bowls. Markus would joust against Cynath and two of the Swan Knights while Rickard would go against a noble from Rohan, a Swan Knight and a noble from Gondor who wasn't a member of any order. I would go against Edmund and two Gondorian nobles named Denelo and Faristor.

My uncle sat in the stands looking down at the now cleared lists as the first two competitors got ready for the joust. He looked up at the walls of the city where many people were getting ready to watch the event at a distance. Jason climbed onto his horse and took a hold of his lance.

'How do you think he'll do?' my uncle asked Robert.

'Jason's a good fighter but I'm not convinced he's a great jouster. He's best with his billhook.'

'I believe that you are probably right,' my uncle agreed.

A horn was blown which signalled the start of the joust. Jason and his opponent glared each other down for a moment until they were ordered to lower their lances. Jason did so and then shut his visor as the crowds waited for the order to charge.

'Go!' the umpire ordered and the two knights galloped towards each other, lances lowered.

In the second before impact everyone watching was silenced. Then they hit. Jason's lance struck his opponent in the chest and the lance shattered. The Gondorian nobleman was thrown from his horse and crashed into the ground. The crowd, especially many of the commoners, cheered for Jason as he held up what was left of his lance in celebration.

'Who's next then?' he shouted as the members of the Council in the stands clapped their hands.

'I think you were both wrong,' Father Harold said as a man behind the priest passed him a small purse of money. 'Thank you good sir.'

'Have you been gambling Father?' Robert asked him.

'It's hardly gambling when I was certain I would win,' he answered with a smile.

My uncle and Robert laughed while Jason was handed a new lance. His second opponent was getting ready for his turn against Jason.

The two knights faced each other down and again, on the order of the umpire, the two of them galloped towards each other. Jason managed to unhorse his opponent again and many people cheered again. After that his third and final opponent came on. He wore the traditional armour of the Swan Knights and was ready for the contest.

On the umpires order the two kicked their horses into a gallop and they thundered towards each other. The instant before they met everyone was silenced. The next sound was a lance smashing into Jason's armoured chest and threw him from his horse. When he crashed into the ground there was cheer and in the stands Prince Imrahil clapped his hands loudly.

'No hard feelings Sir James,' he said to my uncle who chuckled in return.

'Of course not. We still have the rest of the day to go through.'

...

Rickard guided his horse onto the jousting lists and looked at his opponent opposite him. Cynath sat on his horse in his extremely well engraved armour. Every inch of it seemed to be engraved or etched in some way. Both of them were handed their lances and, after saluting each other, Markus lowered the visor of his helmet and tucked the lance under his arm, aiming it at Cynath's shield.

'We have our first challenge of the day!' the umpire declared loudly. 'Are you ready?'

'Aye,' the two knights shouted.

'Then go!'

Markus kicked his horse into a gallop. The ground was a yellow-brown blur beneath him, each time the horse kicked the ground vibrations tore though him, the cheers of the crowd were silenced, and everything suddenly went into slow motion as he drew near his opponent. They both lunged and struck each other on the shield at the same time. When my cousin reached the far end of the lists he was handed a new lance to replace his shattered one.

'They will go again,' the umpire announced. 'Are you ready?'

'Aye!'

'Aye!'

'Go!'

Markus galloped forwards again and lowered his lance at Cynath, aiming for the shield again. When they collided neither of them managed to score a hit on the other so they rode to the ends of the lists again. After Markus had pushed up his visor to get some air he looked up at the stands to see Hethnina waving at him.

'My goodness I hope he beats Cynath,' she said to her friend Pelan.

'He will. He's James Harris' son after all,' she responded.

Hethnina chuckled a little.

'I know but he's going against a talented jouster.'

'More like jester,' Pelan commented.

'I suppose so.'

Markus waited for the umpire to give the word.

'This is the last chance these two competitors will have to score a victory. Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

Markus shut his visor and kicked his horse into a gallop and he charged towards his opponent. He lowered his heavy lance, aiming it at Cynath's shield. Lance shattered as it met knight.

 **AN: So that was the first part of the tournament. I was originally going to do it all in one chapter but I've kept you waiting for long enough so I decided to give you this first part.**

 **KiyaNamiel: Well the block is over now. And no, you do not get Alaric.**

 **Suna Chunin: Well I hope I can bring something new to the pairing.**

 **ATP: I think I may have taken too much time with this one. The wedding will happen soon, don't worry.**

 **Star-Of-Radiance: Well, as to the attacks, they're like the SS after Hitler committed suicide. Groups of them kept fighting to cause as much destruction as possible. Still, I have a good plan for where this story goes and there will be a lot of action. I'm glad you're enjoying this story and I'm glad you liked the previous one.**


	19. Chapter 18 The Tournament Goes On

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **Sorry for the waiting time. Unfortunately I had some difficulty writing this as, well, it's hard to write joust after joust and keep it interesting. To be honest I'm still not fully satisfied with this one.**

 **Also, I have an announcement. Firstly, remember that Legolas/OC thing I told you about a while back? I've given up on it in favour of a Boromir/OC fic. And this one, I can guarantee no one has done on this site.**

Chapter 18

The Tournament Goes On

Lance struck knight and Markus was thrown from his horse as Cynath's lance shattered. Markus tumbled along the ground until he came to a stop and grunted as he climbed to his feet.

'Damn,' my uncle said as Cyllcoth clapped his hands to congratulate his son.

'Never mind,' said Father Harold. 'Markus did well.'

'I suppose you're right. He still has another two matches to go.'

'Yes. He'll do well in them,' Robert said and watched as Cynath got himself ready for his next opponent.

...

Just after his defeat Markus sat on a bench away from the lists. When he fell from his horse he dislocated his shoulder but the healers had managed to put it right easily.

'Are you alright?'

Markus looked towards the source of the question and saw Hethnina.

'Well my ego's a little bruised but apart from that I'm fine,' he answered as Hethnina sat beside him.

'At least you didn't break your neck,' she said. 'I'm sorry you lost.'

'Well I'm not out yet Hethnina,' Markus reminded her. 'I've still got two matches left before the first rounds over.'

'I know. I think Rickard's going on soon.'

'Then we'd better get back,' Markus said before standing up and offering his arm to Hethnina.

'This might just bruise his ego,' she said as they walked back to the lists.

'I doubt it.'

Back at the lists, Rickard had just been handed his lance and he was ready to face the nobleman from Rohan. His name was Eadwald, and he wore a fine suit of armour. The mans face was hidden behind his masked helmet.

'Are you ready?' the umpire shouted.

'Aye!' Rickard shouted.

'Aye,' Eadwald agreed.

The two men lowed their lances and Rickard shut his visor.

'Go!' the umpire shouted and the two kicked their horses into a gallop.

Rickard's lance struck Eadwald's breastplate, just below his neck, but he was able to stay on his horse. Soon my cousin had been handed a new lance and he was ready to get going. The two men lowered their lances again at each other as they awaited the umpire's orders.

'Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

The two galloped at each other again. The instant they met there was silence and then there were cheers as Eadwald struck my cousin on his cuirass. Still, he managed to stay on his horse and he made it to the other end of the lists. While Eadwald was being handed a new lance Rickard was looking up at his father. He simply nodded at his son who was once again ready.

'The two competitors are tied,' the umpire announced. 'This will decide the winner of this match. Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

The two galloped towards each other, lances aimed at each other's breast plate. At last they came within lance range of each other. Rickard thrust his lance forwards and it shattered against his opponent's breastplate. He stayed on his horse but Rickard won that joust. We cheered for Rickard and his victory.

...

In the end Rickard and Markus would both win two of their jousts. It wasn't until half way through the day that I had my first one. Across from me, at the far end of the lists was Edmund on his horse. As ever his armour was incredibly well polished and he we were both ready for the match. I looked up at the stands and I saw Sunniva give me a slight wave. I nodded back to her as the umpire gave the command.

'Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

I slammed down my visor, lowered my lance and sent Augustus into a gallop forwards. Edmund did the same and we both aimed our lances at each other. We crashed forwards and my lance shattered against the base of Edmunds helmet. He nearly fell from his horse but at the last second he was able to pull himself back on.

When I reached the end of the lists I was handed a new lance and I was at once ready to go again. Up in the stands my uncle was watching me as I prepared for the next round.

'He did well,' my uncle commented.

'Indeed,' Robert agreed. 'Do you think he'll manage to beat Edmund.'

'Perhaps. Edmund hasn't as much experience at jousting as John.'

'Neither has Jason.'

'I think Jason just relied on his own strength to win,' Father Harold added.

'True,' my uncle said. 'Let's just see how this goes.'

I had been given a new lance and I knew that I needed to win this quickly. As soon as the umpire told us to go, I commanded Augustus to gallop forwards and I aimed my lance again, This time I thrust out with it and struck Edmund in the centre of his cuirass. He was thrown backwards out of his saddle and he crashed into the ground. As the people watching cheered my success I hoisted up my lance and smiled at my triumph.

I, like my cousins, won two of my jousts but lost my third one. King Eomer however won all three of his contests and, as you can imagine, all of those watching were greatly impressed.

...

When the first round of jousting ended we all had a bite to eat before the second round started. About half of the knights who were in the first round didn't earn enough points to compete in the second. Those who were able included myself and my cousins, Cynath, Agnaral and Jason. Unfortunately Edmund was unable to advance. The order of who would joust was decided the same way the first round was decided. The only difference was that no challenges were to be issued.

As the second round progressed into the afternoon I noticed how new levels of determination took hold of Markus. On his first joust of the second round he unhorsed his opponent with a single blow. In his second he did the same and, by his third, everyone watching eagerly, watching to see what would happen.

My uncle drank another sip of the wine he had bought from Edmund, savouring the strong taste it left. He looked at his son as he was handed a lance and he lowered his visor.

'He has to win here,' my uncle said to Robert. 'If he does he'll have a good chance at making it into the third round.'

'Certainly,' Robert agreed. 'It will be helpful for all of us if your son wins.'

'Yes,' my uncle said and then smiled. 'And I would very much like to see Markus knock that smile off of Cyllcoth's face.'

'Who's he facing?' asked Robert.

My uncle looked to the lists and saw Markus' opponent.

'Jason.'

'Hasn't already lost once this round?'

'Yes. This should be interesting.'

'I hope so,' Father Harold agreed as he patted his purse of winnings.

Markus looked at the umpire.

'Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

Markus shut his visor and galloped forwards with his lance aimed at Jason's cuirass. The two horsemen charged towards each other. Markus' lance struck Jason in the chest and the older man was thrown off of his mount and rolled across the ground before finally stopping.

'Excellent,' my uncle cheered. 'Three knights unhorsed.'

Later I got ready to face my third opponent of that round. So far I had defeated two knights, one of whom I'd unhorsed, and I was feeling confident. My opponent was one of the Swan Knights, named Iaewon, and he was an extremely confident warrior.

'Are you ready?'

'Aye.'

'Aye.'

'Go!'

I shut my visor and urged Augustus into a charge. As I charged I felt my horse moving beneath me. Each time he moved across the ground I felt the vibrations shake through me. I lowered my lance and aimed at the warrior. When we came within lance range he expertly knocked mine out of the way and struck me in the chest and I was weightless. Then I hit the ground and rolled along until I came to a stop.

'Damn,' I quietly groaned and then I forced myself up.

'Damn,' my uncle said to himself.

...

Eventually all of the competitors jousted and the results were counted. Unfortunately, neither I nor Rickard were able to make it into the third round. Jason didn't make it either but Markus did. The knights with the highest ten scores made it into the third round and the ten jousted as hard as they could with all their skill. Eventually, the two winners of that round were decided. It was Markus and Cynath. They would go on to fight in the fourth round the following morning.

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	20. Chapter 19 The Tournament Ends

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Hi guys, before we start I've got a few things to say.**

 **Firstly, I've put out a Boromir/OC story called "The Princess of Gwaintol". Check it out if you want.**

 **Next month a video game named "Total War Warhammer" is coming out and I'm excited for it. The game's based on the Warhammer Fantasy board game which in many ways is Lord of the Rings Extreme. If you haven't seen any of the game trailers I think you should check them out. They are awesome.**

 **Also, remember a couple of chapters ago I threw a rant about historical films and gave a good example of one as Zulu, about a company of British troops defending a mission station. Well, I feel that I did a disservice to another historical film which is truly excellent and made only a small handful of inaccuracies. This film is called "Waterloo" and is about the Battle of Waterloo. The production value is remarkable and for the battle scenes they had 16,000 extras from the Soviet Army making the largest battle scenes ever filmed. You have to watch that film, it is amazing.**

 **Now onto the chapter.**

Chapter Nineteen

The Tournament Ends

Markus sat with us in The Long Sword that night at our usual spot. There was myself, Rickard, Mathew and this time Sunniva had joined us. She was sitting next to me.

'So all you need to do is beat Cynath and you've won,' Mathew said before drinking some of his beer.

'What can possibly go wrong?' asked Edmund as he returned from the counter carrying a mug of beer. He then sat down next to Mathew and drank some of it.

'Well I can get thrown off the horse,' Markus started.

'Wasn't it those two, Cyllcoth and Cynath who made this personal?' asked Sunniva.

'That's right,' said Markus.

'Why?'

'Cyllcoth is angry that my father arrested him just before the siege,' Markus explained to Sunniva. 'He also hates being disturbed whenever Hannastog tests the cannons.'

'Why does that bother him? They're good weapons aren't they?' Sunniva asked and I and my cousins smiled.

'Well,' Rickard started, 'let's just say that the cannons are always tested when Cyllcoth is having his afternoon rest.'

Sunniva laughed at that and Mathew choked on his beer.

'I didn't think James liked cheap jokes,' she chuckled.

'He doesn't officially,' Markus calmly told her.

'Good for him,' she said and took a bite out of the bread on the plate in front of her.

'Do you think you can win?' I asked Markus.

'Cynath is a good jouster,' he answered. 'He is very skilled.'

'He's a brutality winner,' Edmund told us. 'He relies on pure hitting power combined with some skill.'

'More than some skill,' I added. 'He unhorsed most of his opponents with just one blow.'

'So I have nothing to worry about,' Markus sarcastically joked.

'Just remember,' I said to him while I put my arm around Sunniva's shoulders, 'if you mess up tomorrow you can still make up for it in the melee.'

'Thank you very much cousin.'

...

I walked with Sunniva towards the servants entrance to the citadel, arm in arm.

'So do you think Markus will win?' I asked her.

'He better,' Sunniva remarked. 'I might have bet some of my wages on it.'

I smirked at her and she laughed.

'Are you serious?' I asked.

'Yes.'

We reached the servants entrance and Sunniva turned to look at me.

'Goodnight,' she said.

'Goodnight,' I said before I gently kissed her.

When the kiss ended we smiled to each other before she walked through the door and I started walking back to the barracks.

...

The next morning the lists and stands were packed with spectators. I and Rickard stood with the crowds on the ground as we excitedly waited for the joust to begin. I looked up at the stands where my uncle and the other members of the Council were sitting and, walking along the stands helping in the serving of drinks, was Sunniva. After the king gave a few words of welcome to everyone in attendance Markus and Cynath rode onto the list clutching their lances and wearing full armour. As they faced each other down the umpire stepped onto his position and silenced the crowds with his raised hand.

'This is the final round of this tournaments jousting. After this is complete we will move onto the melee but now it is time to decide who is our jousting champion.'

This drew an excited cheer from all of us.

'On the lists before us is Markus Harris, son of James Harris and Cynath son of Cyllcoth. re you ready?'

'Aye!'

'Aye!'

'Go!'

Markus kicked his horse into a gallop as did Cynath. They sped towards each other atop their mounts and lowered their lances, aiming at each other and hoping to throw their opponent from their mount. They reached each other and Cynath slammed his lance into Markus' armoured chest. My cousin managed to stay on his horse but he almost fell off and dropped his lance. He looked down at the point where the lance had hit him and saw a tiny dent in his armour. When he reached the opposite end of the lists he was handed a new lance and got ready for the next charge.

'Are you ready?' the umpire asked them.

'Aye!'

'Aye!'

'Go!'

They charged again and Markus lowered his lance. He aimed carefully and when he came close enough he thrust his lance forwards and it struck Cynath like a thunderclap. The head of the lance shattered and he was almost thrown off but he was gripping onto his reigns with all of his strength. When Markus reached the other end of the lists he was quickly haded a new lance as Cynath got himself ready for the next and final joust.

'Our competitors are tied for points,' the umpire announced and everyone waited eagerly for the final round to begin. 'Whoever wins this round will be the winner of the joust. Competitors, are you ready?'

'AYE!'

'AYE!'

'GO!'

Markus kicked his horse to gallop forwards. He felt every beat his horse made as it galloped. He heard his own breath rattling around inside his helmet. Slowly everything vanished apart from Cynath and the tip of his own lance. They drew closer and closer together and then they collided.

Markus parried Cynath's lance and thrust his own weapon forward and his opponent was thrown from his horse. The crowd cheered as Cynath hit the ground and Markus galloped towards the other end of the lists and hoisted his lance into the air for all to see.

...

The night after the tournament ended we were all gathered in The Green Crown, a tavern which attracted a much higher class of customer than the Long Sword usually did. The tables were perfectly clean and the finest wine was being served. All of the Order was in there drinking and cheering that one of our own was able to win. I sat with Markus at one of the tables with my uncle and Rickard. Joining us was Hannastog, Hethnera, Agnaral and Hethnina who was sitting right next to Markus.

'That was certainly entertaining,' my uncle said and we all chuckled.

'Did you see the look on Cyllcoth's face when you knocked his son off of his horse Markus?' Hannastog laughed.

'I wish I did,' my cousin told him. 'What did he look like?'

'Like a fish which had been thrown from a river,' Hethnera told Markus.

'This may sound immature but I'm glad about that,' my uncle told us.

'It's not immature at all,' Rickard told him before drinking some wine.

'Well what will we be doing after this?' I asked my uncle.

'Avoiding Prince Imrahil,' my uncle said and we all laughed at that. 'Seriously though there is a duty I've been neglecting.'

'And what's that?' Hannastog asked him. 'You're very dedicated to your work.'

'I know that but somehow I've not been able to visit the lands gifted to me for my service during the siege,' he explained. 'I plan to go there next week.'

'Do you want any of us going with you?' I asked him.

'If you want to. I can't promise any excitement.'

'I think after the past year or so the last thing we need is some excitement,' Markus said to which we all agreed.

'Well maybe a little excitement will be good,' Rickard said but none of us realised how soon his words would come to pass.

...

It was approaching midnight when the landlord of the Green Crown told us that we had to leave or else he'd never get any sleep. We left the tavern and as one group we walked through the streets of Minas Tirith, all of us in the Order towards the barracks when a scream tore through the night air. At that we all stopped and, out of a nearby side street, a woman ran out and fell over in front of my uncle.

'What's the matter with you?' he asked.

She just pointed back at the street and was in such a frightened state that she couldn't say a word. My uncle nodded at us so Markus, Rickard, myself and Jason ran to the street with our swords drawn. We had only gone ten paces into the street when we came across a terrible sight. Rickard was sent out of the street to tell my uncle what we saw.

'Murder,' he said. 'Someone's murdered a woman in that street.'

 **AN: Who saw that coming? No one!**

 **Review Response:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Thank you so much. I'm very glad that you liked it and I hope you liked this chapter. For the record, Faramir wasn't even in Tolkien's first draft of Lord of the Rings and neither was Arwen. Originally Aragorn was going to get with Eowyn which makes sense as she's a much more interesting character, actually does something in the books, does more than just sit around in Rivendell and nearly dying because her life's connected to the Ring or something, is a total badass and...I'm just going to stop here or else I'll go off on one of my rants again and I won't be finished until June.  
** **I have a feeling I may have annoyed some of Arwen's fans.**


	21. Chapter 20 Murder

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twenty

Upon hearing my cousin's words every man in our group drew their swords and, before my uncle could stop them, they rushed into the small street. The only two who didn't rush to see what had happened was my uncle and Father Harold. I rushed in with the others and I drew Alaric, seeing only the smallest flicker of light on it. Eventually I came to a stop when the man in front of me did. Too many of us were crowded into a narrow street.

'Out of the way!' my uncle shouted we all shifted to the walls and, for the first time I saw that terrible sight.

Sitting with her back against the wall was a young woman, no more than twenty three. She had blonde hair and the top of her dress was torn. Her neck and dress were stained badly. In the next to no light the stain was black but I knew it was really red. Blood was still pouring from the thin cut straight across her neck. My uncle shook his head at the sorry sight and crouched down next to her before touching her cheek with his hand.

'Still warm,' he said and stood up. 'It means the killer couldn't have gone too far,' he announced to us, suddenly becoming the commander of soldiers again. 'Edmund, take Charles and alert the guards!'

'Understood,' the merchant said and they ran off to do as they were commanded.

'Robert, take two men and go to the Citadel and inform the guards what's happened.'

'Right away.'

Robert chose his two men before they hurried off to follow their orders.

'Markus, find Hannastog and his family. Make sure they get home safely and tell them what's happened.'

'Yes father,' my cousin responded before turning and hurrying off.

'Jason, you will escort the woman who told us about this to the Houses of Healing and tell them what's happened. I want her able to talk as soon as possible.'

'Yes sir,' he agreed and went to get the woman.

'The rest of you,' he said louder than before, 'get into pairs and spread out through the streets. If you find a man with blood or a knife bring him here!'

I looked at Alaric again and I saw the flicker vanish. I and Rickard at once grouped together and we hurried off through the streets as fast as we could. I nearly fell over a box but I still kept running.

Back in the alley my uncle had once again kneeled down by the body. Regretfully he slowly closed the young woman's eyes so she almost looked as if she was asleep.

'What do you wish for me to do?' the priest asked my uncle.

'You know your duty Father.'

My uncle moved away and Father Harold began to give the last rights.

...

'This is the first murder Minas Tirith has seen in two years.'

'Then we need to catch the swine as soon as possible.'

Gathered in the throne room of the citadel stood many people. There was the king sitting on his throne with a pained and saddened look on his face with his queen by his side; Faramir who was looking deeply troubled; Beregond, Captain of the Guard of the Citadel, King Eomer and with him was Eowyn. The Council stood there also and many of the officers in charge of the city garrison and a few officers of the Watchmen. The Royal Council of Gondor was also there and one of them was Cyllcoth. Prince Imrahil wasn't present as he was busy checking the Watchmen patrols.

'What do we know about the woman who died?' Aragorn asked Faramir.

'Nothing but ill news sadly,' he answered. 'It turns out that her name was Laegwan and she was twenty and years old.'

'Did she have any children?' Arwen asked Faramir.

'No. Sadly she miscarried after her husband died.'

'Do we have any idea what she was doing out on a street in the middle of the night?' Beregond asked Faramir. 'It might help us find out the truth of why she died.'

'I'm afraid her story just gets worse,' Faramir told him. 'It appears that to support herself she resorted to, well, sadly she resorted to selling herself.'

At that there were many sighs of grief at a young woman having to go to such tragic lengths to help herself.

'What about the woman who alerted you to the crime?' Aragorn asked my uncle.

'I understand that she's still unable to speak.'

'So we have nothing.'

'I'm afraid so your majesty.

'In that case we must do all we can to stop this monster from killing anyone else,' Aragorn told them. 'I want the patrols around the city doubled and I will not allow the killer to leave.'

'This couldn't have happened at a worse time,' said Robert. 'Nearly every nobleman of worth and their men are in the city now.'

'Then we'll need to stop all of them leaving the city,' said Aragorn.

'Does that include the nobles from Rohan?' Eomer asked him.

'I'm afraid so my friend. You and Eowyn may go if you wish. We all know that you didn't do it.'

'We'll stay,' Eowyn said quickly. 'It should stop our people from complaining.'

'I agree with my sister,' Eomer at once supported Eowyn.

'Thank you,' he said and then looked at the City Watch commanders. 'Double the patrols, especially at night.' The commanders nodded before Aragorn looked at some members of his council. 'There is another matter which must be dealt with now.'

'And that is, sire?' Lord Cyllcoth asked him as politely as he could.

'Why did this woman have to resort to selling herself in the first place?'

'Well she wanted money and couldn't find work.'

'There must be better ways,' Arwen told him.

'I will not allow this in my city.'

'Your Majesty this has always existed. In the end there is no point in trying to stop it as it will happen anyway.'

'I will make sure that the poor of this city are able to live without putting themselves in danger. We must organise places for the poor to receive food.'

'If I may say so,' Father Harold spoke up, 'at my old parish I would often organise food for the extremely poor.'

'Can you organise one here?'

'I always required the donations from my local lord to carry it out. With enough funds I can do it.'

'You'll have enough money for it.'

After that they discussed in detail the new patrol plans. As there was a shortage of men in the City Watch, a small volunteer force which guarded the city streets, and in the garrison of soldiers, my uncle volunteered the Order to assist in the patrols.

...

'Just promise me you won't go anywhere alone.'

'John you don't need to worry.'

Sunniva and I were sitting in The Long Sword having a drink. Like all of the others from Rohan she wasn't allowed to leave the city.

'I do worry. You haven't seen what this monster has done.'

'I know but I don't see any reason to be afraid of a man that hides in the night.'

I shook my head at that but she just locked me with a stern gaze.

'John I'm being serious,' she assured me. 'If it keeps you happy I'll not do anything stupid.'

'I never said you would.'

'But that's what you suggested.'

'Has anyone ever told you that you're remarkably stubborn?'

'A few times.'

I finished the last of my ale and put the mug down again.

'John I'll be fine,' she promised me.

'I know you'll be safe but I'm still worried.'

'Don't be.'

'I can't help it. That bastard was only a stone's throw away from us when we were drinking and we missed him.'

'With any luck the patrols will catch him soon.'

'I hope for his sake I don't get him first.'

...

Father Harold was in the Barracks kitchens, talking with the cook, a stocky man named Laron.

'No offence Father but its hard enough cooking for the Order every day. I don't have enough staff to cook for who knows how many more people.'

'Sir James disagrees,' Father Harold reminded him as Laron walked over to the large table where a large number of chickens were being plucked. 'And we've been given enough money to hire extra staff for it.'

'It's not just staff,' Laron told him and pulled out some feathers before throwing them into a bucket. 'I don't have enough space.'

'I might be able to persuade Sir James to let us set up some temporary facilities in the training yard. It can't be too hard to make some soup there.'

Laron shook his head and sighed.

'Alright then. I'll do it if you can get Sir James to let me use the yard.'

'Thank you very much Laron.'

 **AN: And the games afoot. Here's the latest chapter and I hope you liked it. So, what are your theories? What do you thinks happened? Find out soon. Also, sorry I've taken so long to update but a combination of revision, actually deciding to read the Hobbit and binge watching Game of Thrones held me back.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Yep, murder.**

 **ATP: I believed that was a part of the sequel Grand Master Tolkien started but then gave up on. Also, interesting idea.**

 **gginsc: Sunniva is safe...for now *evil grin***


	22. Chapter 21 Another

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twenty One

Another

Edmund smiled to himself as he walked into the barracks carrying a large heavy purse and a nearly completely empty pack on his back. After sharing a few words with the guard at the door he walked up the stairs, planning to head straight to his room. He reached the stairs leading to the top floor when my uncle started walking down them.

'Good morning,' he said and saw the sack and purse. 'What have you been doing?'

'Erm, just a little idea I had,' he answered and tired to walk past my uncle but the older man stood in front of him.

'Come to my room and I'll show you,' he said and they both walked along into Edmunds room.

In one corner was his armour on a stand, his sword was over the small fireplace and there were several tables along one wall which were covered with books holding all of the accounts of the order and his own business ventures. There were also many letters, mostly correspondence with his lands in Rohan. Edmund put the sack and the purse on a table and then sat down. My uncle remained standing.

'I had a bit of an idea to make some extra money,' Edmund explained to him.

'Is it illegal?'

'Of course not.'

'Then what is it?'

Edmund reached into the sack and pulled out a short dagger which was small enough to be easily hidden on a person.

'Since the murder last week there has been a bit of a demand for weapons which women can use to protect themselves,' he answered and passed the dagger to my uncle. 'I was just taking advantage of that.'

My uncle inspected the weapon and rolled his eyes.

'I have no problems with you making a bit of extra money on the side,' he told him, 'but at the moment it is not a good idea to be soon handing out knives. If you ever do this again don't wear your red cloak when doing it.'

'I understand,' Edmund said and then my uncle left.

Edmund straight away knelt down to the level of a large wooden chest covered with heavy iron bands and a large lock on it. He unlocked it and pushed it open to reveal a large number of copper, silver and a few gold coins. He emptied his purse into it and then he locked it.

...

Later that night I and Mathew were walking through the streets on patrol. I kept my hand near Alaric as we walked but so far there was nothing to suggest we were in trouble. In case there was any trouble though all the men on patrol had been given horns to blow if we found something. A few people were saying that the killer had already left the city but most were still paranoid that he was going to strike again.

'What do you think the killer wants?' Mathew asked me.

'He's a murderer. I don't think his mind works like ours.'

'Then will we catch him?'

'Who knows?' I asked. 'Maybe we'll get him. So how's your lady anyway?'

'Altrisa's great thanks. They've fixed all of the damage from the battle.'

'Is there any chance of you seeing her soon?'

'When we're allowed to leave I'll write and ask if she'd like me to go and visit her.'

'Good for you,' I said to him.

'So what about you and Sunniva?' he asked me.

'We're still good,' I answered him.

'Is that all?'

'Of course,' I said just as a distress horn was sounded in the distance.

...

'Another murder?' Aragorn asked the next morning, his face gaunt with worry and fear.

All of the same people who were there at the last meeting were gathered again and they were all shaken. The only difference was that Prince Imrahil was actually able to attend.

'I'm afraid so,' Faramir answered. 'I've found out her name was Ethirat. Her body was found just outside of the block of flats she lived in by her neighbour who then alerted one of the watchmen. She was cold when we found her so she must have been dead for a while.'

'What was the wound which killed her?'

'A single slice across the neck.'

'Was there anything special about her?' Aragorn asked him.

'Not really. She lived alone and she was last seen before her death in one of the Inns having a drink.'

'Family?'

'None in the city. She was engaged though. The wedding was going to be next week.'

'Oh dear,' Arwen murmured and looked saddened.

'What was her job? There has to be something that can give us a lead.'

'She worked as a cleaner at the Black Powder Store,' my uncle responded.

'There has to be something else,' Aragorn said to all those gathered. 'There has to be a pattern.'

'So far he's only killed women and both times with a quick slash across the throat,' Robert listed off. 'We don't have much to go on.'

'Actually I think we do,' Aragorn said as realisation crept onto his face. 'They were both killed the same way but no one heard any screams. If he struck from the front his victims would have screamed so he must have come from behind.'

'It makes sense for the first one,' said Jason.

'How so?' Faramir asked him.

'Let me demonstrate,' Jason said and, after my uncle and Robert shared a worried glance, the old soldier looked at a young servant woman nearby. 'You, come here.'

She looked extremely surprised at that and didn't move but after Aragorn nodded at her she stepped towards Jason. Jason stepped behind her and pulled out his knife before putting it up his left sleeve.

'This is what happened. The first girl was probably looking for customers and she found one. He stepped behind her and put his arm around her neck,' he then did that to the woman, 'and then he probably did this.' He then quickly reached into his left sleeve and pulled his knife out quickly, past the woman's neck and then he stepped backwards. 'All the blood squirts away from him and he can just walk away.'

He then told the woman that she can go and she quickly went back to her job.

'Thank you for the demonstration,' said Aragorn although it appeared that he didn't fully approve of his methods. 'What about the second woman?'

'There are a few alleys close to where the second woman was found,' answered Faramir. 'He was probably waiting for her there and took his chance.'

'Why didn't he just kill another prostitute?' asked Cyllcoth. 'Why make things harder for himself?'

'Maybe he's an opportunist,' suggested Eomer.

'Maybe,' said Aragorn. 'Faramir, I want it known that anyone who can give us information which leads to the capture of the murderer will receive one hundred gold pieces. You are dismissed.'

...

The Council were sitting around the table in the Council Room a few hours later for the weekly meeting.

'We have several matters to attend with today,' my uncle told them. 'Firstly, Father Harold, how is the progress with the church coming along?'

'Very well,' he answered happily. 'I believe that if the work continues the way in is now we should be finished within the next two months.'

'Excellent,' said my uncle. 'How is work with the new constitution coming along?'

'Not bad. I'm still working on some of the finer points thought.'

'Can you let us know when you're finished?'

'Of course.'

'Thank you. Now, the other matter is the recent murders. More and more people are frightened and we need to do all we can to catch the killer.'

'What can we do really?' asked Edmund. 'In the end this man leaves no evidence, no one has seen his face and we don't have a clue where he lives.'

'There has to be a way we can find him,' my uncle insisted.

'We look for a pattern,' said Robert.

'Two killings is hardly a pattern,' Father Harold reminded him.

'True,' Robert said. 'He's killed twice so it's a reasonable bet to say he'll kill again. After that we should have a pattern.'

'Robert, do not even think that,' my uncle almost shouted.

'James, he will kill again and he's bound to make a mistake eventually.'

My uncle knew he was right but he didn't say anything in response.

...

Later that night, in the servant's quarters of the Citadel, Sunniva walked towards the bedroom she shared with two of her fellows from Rohan, not noticing the cloaked figure lurking in the shadows.

 **AN: Well I'm off to run and hide in the bunker where I keep my ammunition, guns and nail clippers.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP: It was tempting to use gangs but it doesn't fit into what I have planned.**

 **KiyaNamiel: If you try to do anything I'll use your intestines to make caramel! (PS is that the best threat ever?)**


	23. Chapter 22 Now it's Personal

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Your eyes don't deceive you my friends. I've updated again very quickly. This is because I've got exams on now and I'm not sure when I can update again.**

Chapter Twenty Eight

Now It's Personal

'Achoo!'

Sunniva sneezed loudly and brought her hand up to her nose, cursing the fact that she forgot a handkerchief. She wiped her hand on her dress, hopefully no one would notice, and then she carried on walking as silent footsteps followed her.

She only walked a few paces when one of the doors opened and a young man, one of the cooks, stepped out of it.

'Is there a thunderstorm out here?' he sarcastically asked and Sunniva rolled her eyes just as he looked past her. 'AAAAHHHHHH!'

He then slammed the door shut and Sunniva turned around to see a figure wearing a black cloak and hood with a knife in his hand only a few feet from her. Sunniva screamed and backed away reaching for the back of her belt as the man rushed towards her and put his hand over her mouth, bringing the glinting blade up to her neck.

...

'How did he get in here?' Aragorn shouted at Captain Beregond who had told him of the attack.

They were both standing in the throne room and Aragorn was wearing his night clothes as he'd only just been woken up.

'We don't know sire,' he answered.

'Who was attacked anyway?'

'One of the servants from Rohan. Her name's Sunniva.'

'Sunniva? Are you sure?'

'Yes. Is she known to you?'

'Not very well,' he answered. 'But she's, well, she's in a relationship with Sir James's nephew.'

'I'll send a guard to tell him.'

...

'John!'

I was thrown out of my sleep by my uncle's shout. I opened my eyes and I saw him standing by my bed wearing a heavy cloak and with his sword at his belt. There was no light coming past the window shutters so I knew it was either still night or the very early hours of the morning. His shouting had also woken up Rickard who looked more asleep than I was due to our long visit to the Long Sword the night before.

'Are we under attack?' I asked as I rubbed my eyes.

'The killer got into the Citadel,' he told me. 'Sunniva's been attacked.'

At that I jumped out of bed and quickly threw on a shirt before grabbing Alaric.

I and my uncle were soon running into the Houses of Healing and we went straight to one of the private rooms on an upper floor. We quickly found the right room as there was a soldier outside of it. We walked straight in where I saw Sunniva on the bed with a healer kneeling next to her dabbing at a deep cut on her neck.

'Sunniva!' I shouted and I was going to run to her when a man from the Citadel Guard stopped me. I recognised him as Captain Beregond.

'Sir John please wait here. She needs rest and I have questions for her to answer.'

'But I want to talk to her,' I said.

'John,' Sunniva said and winced from the pain in her neck, 'just do what he says.'

I was silent then and stepped back while the Healer continued her work. She wrapped a bandage around Sunniva's neck when she was done.

'I'll change the bandage in the morning,' she told Sunniva. 'Don't move your neck too much and don't scratch it.'

'I can't imagine why,' Sunniva grumbled and winced again.

'Don't move your neck,' the healer told her.

Sunniva was silent and then Beregond stepped next to and pulled up a chair which he sat in.

'Now, Sunniva, I need to ask you some questions.'

'I'll wait outside,' my uncle whispered to me and left the room.

'What do you need to know?' she asked and winced again.

'What does he look like?'

'I don't know,' she answered. 'He had a hood and sort of cloth wrapped over his face. I couldn't see him properly. He was tall though. Very, very tall. Far taller than you sir but he was thin.'

'Do you have any idea how he got in?'

'No. I was just walking to my room when one of the cooks came out of his room, saw him, screamed and I tried to run.'

'What happened next?' he asked her but she bit her lower lip and didn't answer.

'Sunniva,' I said and walked to the other side of the bed where I knelt on the floor so we were at the same eye level, 'we need to catch the bastard who did this. You might know something that can do that.'

She looked at me for a few seconds, suddenly the weight of it all came crashing down and tears trickled from her eyes. The trickle became a flood quickly and she grabbed onto me, burying her face in my neck and tears tore through her body. I put my hand on her back to comfort her but she still sobbed ceaselessly.

Eventually the tears ended but she still held onto me, almost frightened to let go. After a few minutes she let go and looked at me with reddened eyes. Suddenly I remembered the day we first met in that cave behind Helms Deep. She looked like that now. She looked at Beregond but gripped by hand tightly.

'He grabbed me,' Sunniva started the story again. 'He, erm, he put his hand over my mouth and pressed me against the wall. He pressed his knife against my throat and cut me. Before he could do more I, erm.'

'What did you do?'

'I stabbed him in the arm,' she explained.

'You were armed?' he asked her.

'Yes. I had a knife. Edmund from the English Knights sold me one earlier. When I stabbed him he let me go and I ran to my room. I think I fainted.'

'Where exactly in the arm did you stab him?'

'Just below his shoulder.'

'Is there anything else?' Beregond asked her.

'No,' she answered and shook her head, wincing a bit.

'Who was it that saw him before you?'

'One of the cooks I think. I don't know his name.'

'Which room was he in?' asked Beregond.

'Erm, it was a few rooms from mine. I can't remember.'

'It's alright we'll find out,' Beregond assured her. 'Is there anything else you can remember?'

'No,' she answered.

'Very well, I'll be off. If you remember anything else can you let me know?'

'I will,' she assured him and then he left.

When the door was closed behind him we were left alone. We didn't say anything but she held onto me. I don't know how long we were like that but when Sunniva's breakfast was brought in it was dawn. I was told to leave then after the healer complained that I had no right to keep a patient up all night.

...

'He got into the Citadel last night,' Aragorn strongly told the usual group the next morning. 'He tried to kill one of the servants and nearly succeeded.'

'Did the servant see his face?' asked Cyllcoth.

'He was apparently wearing a cloth over his face,' Beregond answered him. 'She couldn't see him.'

'What do we know then?' Cyllcoth demanded from the Captain. The fact that the killer had broken into the Citadel had obviously shaken him badly.

'We know he's taller than I and he's thin. He's also been stabbed just below the shoulder.'

'Has anyone with such a wound had treatment for it?' asked Aragorn.

'The Houses of Healing haven't taken anyone in with that type of wound sire. However, I think that because of the siege there are plenty of men with some medical training. Chances are he could have treated it himself.'

'So we still have no idea who is?' my uncle asked him.

'I'm afraid not.'

'Damn.'

'Why couldn't that stupid girl do anything to see his face?' Cyllcoth complained.

'I think that "stupid girl" was too busy trying to stay alive,' my uncle bit back angrily.

'And please do not speak of one of my people in that way again,' Eomer told Cyllcoth.

'Enough,' Aragorn silenced the two of them. 'Lord Cyllcoth, Sir James, I know that you have a private dispute but can you please leave it out of these meetings?'

'Yes sire,' my uncle responded as did Cyllcoth.

'Good. Captain Beregond, I want a full check done on the security for the Citadel. Find out how he got in and secure that breach in our security.'

'I will sire.'

'Excellent,' he said before addressing everyone. 'I hope someone has a theory about this killer.'

'I do,' Faramir said but it was obvious he didn't like his own idea.

'Please tell me,' his king instructed him.

'So far he has only tried to kill women,' Faramir began. 'So far his victims have been a prostitute, a cleaner and he tried to kill a servant. From this I think I can see a pattern. His victims are becoming more and more prominent every time. I fear that his aim is to keep this up until he can strike against the highest ranking woman in the kingdom.'

At hearing that the silence in the room was unbreakable and every eye turned towards Queen Arwen who had been standing at the base of the dais holding the throne. No one said a word and she was able to keep any fear she had hidden.

'I will not be intimidated by a thug who hides behind a mask,' she announced. 'I refuse to be.'

'We will assume that you are correct Faramir,' Aragorn told the Steward. 'Arwen, I'm having the guards doubled. We must all remain vigilant and I am doubling the reward for the killers capture. You are dismissed.'

...

'Good luck cousin,' Rickard said to me as we reached the doors of the Houses of Healing.

'Thanks Rickard,' I responded.

'I'll see you at the barracks.'

He then walked away and I took in a deep breath before entering the Houses of Healing. I quickly managed to find my way to Sunniva's room. Slowly I knocked on the door and I heard her voice tell me to come in. Sunniva was sitting in her bed and her bandage had been recently changed.

'John,' she said and smiled, a slight wince pulling at her face.

'How are you feeling?' I asked and we kissed

I then sat in the chair next to her bed.

'I feel like someone shoved a knife in my neck,' she said jokingly and I couldn't help but chuckle at her tone.

'I wonder why.'

'Do you have it?' Sunniva whispered and I passed her the flask of ale I'd been hiding under my cloak.

As soon as she got it she drank quickly from it.

'If the healers caught you giving me this they'd throw you out,' she told me.

'I guessed that.'

'And you still did it.'

We both chuckled and she took another drink.

'How long will you be in here?' I asked her.

'They said a week. With any luck this cut will be healed enough to let me go.'

'Good,' I said. 'I'm just glad he didn't do anything worse to you.'

'John he didn't kill me. If I can survive that I can survive anything.'

'I hope so,' I told her. 'I just wish that no one can try to hurt you again.'

'So do I,' she agreed. 'Still, there's no way to do that completely.'

'Yes there is,' I told her. 'Sunniva I love you and you know that.'

'I know,' she said and smiled gently.

Our hands lightly touched and I kissed her again.

'I mean I truly love you more than anyone.'

'What are you saying?' she asked as I saw her expression change to one of intrigued mixed with a bit of nervousness.

'Sunniva,' I said and I moved off the chair onto my knees, 'will you marry me?'

 **AN: Well after the last cliff hanger was a bit of a scare for you all I thought I should do something nice for you all.**

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 **gginsc: What were you saying?**

 **KiyaNamiel: So do you think Edmund should stop selling knives? Also, how are your nerves now?**

 **ATP: Exactly, Minas Tirith is not Chicago (Apologies to the people of Chicago. You're not that bad. Hell, you're a nice enough bunch).**


	24. Chapter 23 Dealings

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: I know I said that I wouldn't update for a while but I had a sudden burst of creativity and then this happened.**

Chapter Twenty Three

Dealings

Sunniva and I kissed deeply. She had half pulled me onto the bed and we were kissing deeper than we ever had before. When we at last broke the kiss I looked down at her smiling face.

'Was that a yes?' I asked her and she laughed.

'Yes a million times,' she almost shouted and we kissed again.

When our kiss broke we laughed and smiled as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ring. It was a simple silver band adorned with a few tiny cut pearls. When my love saw it she looked at the ring with stunned eyes, suddenly it all became real and she held out her hand. Slowly I slid the ring onto her finger and she looked at me in the eyes before her hand closed around mine. We kissed again much softer than the last time just as the door opened and a healer walked in.

'Out!' the healer shouted at me.

...

My uncle sat in his room reading through some documents. He just signed off an order for three new swords. Apparently three members of the Order had gotten drunk and somehow lost their swords. As he picked up another letter he sighed.

'Why do I do this?' he asked himself and then he heard a knock at his door. 'Come in.'

I walked into the room, still over the moon with enjoyment at what had just happened.

'Good morning uncle,' I said to him and sat down.

'Why are you so cheerful?' he asked me and put down a letter he was just starting to read.

'Uncle I've done something very important,' I told him. 'I've asked Sunniva to marry me.'

For a few moments he silently looked at me.

'What?'

'I've asked Sunniva to be my wife.'

He gave me a small smile.

'John, how much thought did you give this?'

'Enough,' I told him. 'I love her. After she was attacked I realised that I wanted to be with her forever.'

'I see,' my uncle told me. 'If you're sure you want to do this I'm happy for you. Just promise me two things. First, wait until after Markus is married. Second, wait until the murderer is caught.'

'Uncle, I agree with waiting until after Markus but why wait until the killer's been arrested?'

'Because of Faramir's theory. He believes that the murderer is killing people based on their class, going up from the lowliest. If you marry Sunniva before he's caught you'll be raising her up to the rank of a noble and putting her in danger again.'

'I see,' I said, suddenly my realisation of what this killer was doing came to me. 'Uncle, do you think I'm doing the right thing? Asking her to marry me?'

'Of course,' he told me. 'I can tell you care about her a lot so you might as well marry her. I've had enough paperwork for the day. Let's get your cousins and a drink.'

...

In the Green Crown Edmund sat with a merchant in a corner table.

'I won't part with the wine for less than twenty sacks of wheat,' the other merchant told him.

'Alright,' Edmund said nonchalantly. 'If you want to lose out that's fine.'

He then stood up and was about to walk away when the other merchant stopped him.

'Actually Sir Edmund I may be willing to reconsider.'

'I thought you might.'

'I'll take eighteen sacks of wheat.'

'Fifteen or no deal,' Edmund told him.

'Sixteen.'

'Fifteen.'

'Sixteen.'

'Fifteen.'

'Sixteen.'

'Have a nice day.'

Edmund was about to stand up again.

'Wait. Fifteen it is then.'

The two men shook hands on it.

'You're a hard man to deal with,' the merchant told Edmund.

'I'm tough but fair. The wheat's in my storerooms on the First Level. I'll meet you there tonight at ten. Bring the wine.'

...

Later that night Edmund walked along the silent street wearing a green cloak. The building next to him was a warehouse owned by the army to store weapons. However, there were numerous smaller rooms along the outer wall which they rented out to private businesses and individuals to raise more money. Each one was identical with an arched roof and went very deep into the warehouse. Many had been turned into small shops and others were used as storerooms. Edmund rented two of them right next to each other and used them both as storerooms. He at last came to them and was satisfied to see that both of their heavy wooden doors were closed. He waited outside of them for a few minutes until one of watchmen walked along.

'Who are you?' he asked Edmund.

'Sir Edmund of the Order of English Knights,' he answered.

'Forgive me Sir Edmund I didn't know it was you. What are you doing out at night?'

'Just a business deal,' he explained.

'Is it a good one?'

'I think so.'

'Well good night Sir Edmund.'

'Thank you soldier.'

It wasn't long after this that Edmund heard the sound of a cart coming towards him. A moment later a large cart, being pulled by a horse, rounded a corner and it was being driven by the merchant. Sitting in the back of it were two men.

'Good evening,' Edmund said when the cart stopped and the merchant climbed off of it. 'Did you bring the wine?'

'Of course,' he answered him and they walked to the back of the cart where three chests were waiting.

'Excellent,' Edmund said and one of the merchants men carried off one of the chests.

Edmund quickly opened it and saw twenty bottles of wine in it.

'Sixty bottles,' the merchant told him. 'I keep my word.'

'Very good,' Edmund said and then walked towards one of the storerooms.

He unlocked it and pulled open the heavy door revealing a large room which was stacked with bags of wheat and potatoes. There were also crates of wine and a few bags of salt.

'Fifteen bags of wheat isn't it?' asked the merchant.

'That's right my friend,' Edmund responded as the merchants men walked into the store room to get the wheat.

It didn't take long until the wheat was loaded up and the wine was in the storeroom. After Edmund locked the door he turned to face the merchant who was looking at his bags of wheat.

'I hope we can do business again,' Edmund said to him.

'So do I Sir Edmund.'

'How are you finding business lately?'

'A bit hard since the King put in that ban on leaving the city. Still, I'm, pulling through.'

'Same here. Still, I heard that he's planning on lifting the ban soon.'

'Really? About damn time.'

'Well good night.'

'Good night.'

The two shook hands and the merchant then climbed into the seat of his cart. He quickly rode off leaving Edmund alone. Before he went back up to the barracks he decided just to check his stock. He walked into the store room with the wine in it and counted everything in it. Thirty five sacks of potatoes, they were due to be sold to several grocers the next day, eight bags of salt, three of which were going to be sold to a butcher, twelve crates of wine, mostly going to a few taverns and three bottles to Jason. There were about sixty sacks of wheat in there and they were his largest money maker. It was easy to sell and most people needed to buy them. After checking all of them he went into his other storeroom and saw that everything was there. It contained much less than the other one but there were still plenty of supplies in it. Twenty bags of wool which were going to a clothing seller and about a hundred knives. Once he had checked them both he locked both doors and then started back to the barracks but he only reached the next street when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was a second floor window and a man in a black cloak was climbing out of it.

'You!' Edmund shouted and the man in the cloak was so startled he fell from the window and landed on the street at a crouch.

Edmund drew his sword when he saw a recently stitched up tear in the cloaked mans sleeve. The cloaked figure reached to his belt and pulled out a very long knife. Edmund struck first, swinging down his sword at the man who dodged it nimbly and then stabbed at Edmund, tearing his tunic. Edmund threw off his cloak to move easier and then attacked but his foe dodged every attack until he caught the blade with the knife. The cloaked man then swung his fist at Edmunds face and knocked him back a little. This was all the man needed. He spun around and vaulted away to nearest building and jumped up onto a window ledge. He nimbly climbed up to the next one and soon threw himself onto the roof. Edmund followed him at a slower rate, forcing himself up further and further. Eventually he reached the edge of the room and grabbed hold of it. Then he saw a shadow looming over him. The cloaked man. He slammed the heal of his boot onto Edmunds fingers. He fell from the roof down to the street below.

 **AN: ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **Suna Chunin: Yep, he did it at last. Interesting idea about the killer but, as we know, the Hasashim were very good. Then again, this one got busted although that was just bad luck.**

 **KiyaNamiel: Are your nerves still intact? So, they're getting married!**


	25. Chapter 24 Evidence at Last

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twenty Four

Evidence at Last

Pain. Falling. Leg. Cloak. Weapon. Wheat. Wine. Falling. Cloak. Falling.

'How is he?'

'Three of his fingers are broken and so is his right leg. There are bruises all over him.'

'Will he recover?'

'Of course. I think he's waking up now.'

Edmund's eyes slowly opened and he saw a ceiling. Then he felt a pain in his leg and hand. In fact, everything hurt. Slowly he moved his aching head around and saw that he was in the Houses of Healing. It was one of the smaller wards with three other beds but none of them were occupied. When he tried to move his leg he couldn't and he recognised the feeling of a splint around it. Standing around his bed were a few healers and with them stood James, Jason and Captain Beregond.

'Good afternoon Edmund,' my uncle said to him. 'I understand that you've been practising acrobatics.'

'Christ,' he cursed and sat up.

'Edmund the Captain here needs to ask you some rubbish,' Jason told him.

'I need to ask you some questions,' Beregond clarified.

'Go on then,' Edmund said and felt the side of his face. It hurt a lot and felt swollen from bruises.

'What were you doing out that late at night?'

'I was trading wheat for wine. It was a good deal.'

'Who were you dealing with?' asked Beregond.

'A wine merchant named Dedino. I gave him fifteen sacks of wheat for sixty bottles of wine. Like I said it was a good deal.'

'Why were you on the roof?'

'I wasn't. I, let me see, yes I was on my way back to the barracks when I saw the murderer climbing out of a window. He fell to the ground and I attacked him. We fought but he retreated and climbed up to the roof. I followed him up and I put my hands on the roof when he, well, he stamped on my fingers and I fell.'

'You say he climbed up the building. How?'

'He didn't really climb. He actually managed to jump from window to window.'

'He jumped?' Beregond asked sceptically.

'That's right. He managed to get up there quickly,' Edmund told him but then remembered something. 'What was he doing in that building?'

'We found a body,' Beregond told him and Edmund shook his head.

'Damn.'

'I think that's all I need to know,' Beregond told him. 'I may return later though.'

'If there's any way I can help you I'll do it,' Edmund assured him and the Beregond left. 'James, there's some work I need to do today. It's fairly important for my business.'

'I'm sorry Edmund but you're not allowed to leave here until your leg's healed,' James told him.

'Can't you at least send me my documents?'

'Of course,' my uncle assured him. 'If you need anything young Mathew's agreed to do some errands for you.'

'Excellent. I'm glad he can spare the time to help me.'

'It's no trouble for him. Just promise me you won't try to leave.'

'I promise.'

...

'I'm just glad he's alright.'

'I want to know how he's still alive.'

Sunniva and I were walking through the gardens of the Houses of Healing. She was no longer wearing her bandage but there were stitches. The wound would certainly leave a prominent scar but all which mattered was that she survived.

'How far was the fall?'

'About four floors I think. He's covered in bruises and his legs broken but he lived.'

'It's a damn miracle.'

'I wouldn't be surprised.'

We both chuckled and came to a balustrade looking over the city and in the distance the mountains. Now that the constant cloud over the realm had died with Sauron the mountains were in a strange way pleasant to look at.

'What did your uncle say when you told him?' she asked me.

'He was happy for us,' I told her and took her hand. 'He just wants us to wait until after Markus and Hethnina are married.'

'Oh the wait,' she sighed dramatically.

'The wait will be worth it Lady Harris,' I told her and at my last words she visibly stiffened.

'I'm going to be a noble aren't I?' she said, sounding a little intimidated by the prospect.

'Sunniva you're more of a noble than half the people who inherited their titles.'

'Thanks. I just, well, I don't know the first thing about being a Lady or anything.'

'You'll learn.'

'From who?'

'Give me some time and I'll work that out,' I said offhandedly but I saw that she was still concerned. 'Don't worry about it.'

'What if I showed you up one day or embarrassed your family?'

'Sunniva, I wouldn't care if you ever did. As long as we're together I'm fine.'

'That's very sweet.'

'I know.'

...

Faramir sat in his study with Beregond discussing the latest murder and any clues they had uncovered.

'Who was she?' Faramir asked him.

'Her name was Etharal. She was thirty one years old and, I'm sorry to say this, she was with child.'

'Where was her husband?'

'He's a captain in the army and he's stationed near Dol Amroth.'

'Send word to him. He is allowed to come here for the funeral.'

'I understand.'

'Do we have any evidence?'

'Yes. Sir Edmund saw the murderer climbing out of Etharal's window after the murder and startled him so he fell to the ground. When he fell he dropped a set of lock picks he used to open the window from the outside.'

'Were there any maker's marks on them?' Faramir asked him quickly, suddenly excited at finally having evidence.

'He'd tried to scratch them off but we managed to identify it. He's a low level metal worker.'

'Then let's go,' Faramir said and stood up. 'We'll need to speak with him.'

...

'I'm sorry my Lord but I can't remember.'

Faramir and Beregond were in the small shop of a blacksmith on the first level. At the back was a forge and at the front was a shop where many tools were on display for the shoppers. The smith, a man named Taelon, was polishing the head of an axe he'd made.

'All we need to know is how many people have bought a set of lock picks from you in the last month,' Faramir repeated.

'My Lord, lots of people buy lock picks from me. I can't remember just one man.'

'Don't you have a record of your sales?'

'I do but I don't show it to anyone,' Taelon told Faramir and put down the axe head.

'Very well,' Faramir said and looked at Beregond. 'Captain, please arrest this man for aiding a murderer.'

'Yes sir,' Beregond said and the smiths eyes went wide.

'Wait, wait, wait! I'll show you.'

'Thank you.'

Taelon disappeared under the desk and grabbed a large book. He placed it on the desk and pushed it towards Faramir.

'Take it if you want.'

'Thank you,' Beregond said and took the book. 'It will be most useful.'

'If this leads you to the killer will I get the reward?'

'Of course,' Faramir told him.

'I'm glad to help.'

...

'After that you'll take the wool to Tadion this afternoon.'

'Alright.'

Edmund and Mathew were in the Houses of Healing. Mathew was being told what jobs he had to do that day.

'Once he's given you the money take it to my room and put it in my money chest,' he then reached into the small cabinet by his bed and pulled out a key. 'Unlock it with this. Don't forget to lock it once you're done.'

'Alright,' Mathew responded. 'Edmund, can I ask you something?'

'Go ahead.'

'How did you get your money?'

'I earned it.'

'How?'

'You better sit down then,' Edmund told him and gestured to the chair by his bed. 'It's not a short story.'

'I don't have to deliver anything for a couple of hours,' Mathew said before sitting down.

'Very true. So, where to start? It really started when my grandfather became a freeman after he saved a knight in a battle and he got a house and some land for it. Then my father decided to be an idiot and gambled everything away when I was seventeen. All we had left was our house and the clothes we were standing in. He couldn't cope and jumped into the River Wear to kill himself.'

'The Wear?'

'A river going through a little town. Haven't you ever heard of it?'

'No I never left my village until there was a battle on.'

'Anyway, we were left with nothing and I had to find a way of supporting me, my mother and my three sisters. With nothing to lose I sold the house and used the money to buy a cart and a beast to pull it. We made a living carting wool from one town to the next until we had enough to buy a little cottage. Anyway, after a while we saved up enough to buy more carts and I started arranging transport for a few farmers goods. We spent next to nothing, only buying what we needed desperately, and we made a lot of money.'

'Well done.'

'Thanks. Anyway, after a while I started transporting weapons and that's when I started getting very rich. I joined one of the carts carrying weapons to the army of Edward the Fourth when we were attacked by some of his enemies. They killed two of my men and tried to kill me. I grabbed one of the swords in the cart and fought hard. I'd never been in a fight before. We almost lost but a group of knights came along and saved us. One of the knights, a noble by the name of Alexander, was thrown from his horse and was almost killed but I saved him. I found out later that his father was the same knight my grandfather saved years ago. When we found out we drank to good fortune,' he laughed with fondness at the memory. 'Anyway, we went on to the army and for my services to him he rewarded me with a suit of armour engraved with the most beautiful carvings I have ever seen. I squired for Alexander in the Battle of Tewkesbury.'

'Tewkesbury? Didn't John's dad die there?'

'I think so. I'm sure I saw the Harris brothers at a distance there but I'm not sure. That was my first real battle. After that I and Alexander went to a tavern and I met a woman named Joan. We married two months later. For years we were happy and lived well. I left England a few times and went over to France and made a lot of money buying good wine there at a low price and selling it for a lot more back home. My sisters got married to rich merchants and my mother died in her sleep with a glass of wine in her hand.'

'Where's she now? Joan?'

'Died two years ago. We had no children but it didn't matter.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It's alright. When another battle came around I saw a chance to win some glory and fame. Now I'm in a world filled with monsters, wizards and a lunatic murderer on the loose.'

'Thanks for the life story.'

'Ha. I suppose I got carried away. I think you'd better get on with your jobs.'

'Alright. I'll see you later.'

'See you later Mathew.'

After Mathew left, Edmund thought about home, quickly brushing away the single tear which trickled from his eye.

 **AN: He lives! So that was my latest chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. Yeah, I wanted to look into Edmunds back story a bit in this chapter. What do you guys think of it?**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Well at least this one wasn't a cliff hanger. So, Edmund is not doing anything shady what so ever. Well, apart from the French wine thing.**


	26. Chapter 25 Endgame

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twenty Five

End Game

Father Harold nodded to himself as the last of the people were finishing their food. He'd arranged the meal for the poor to take place in a public square not far from the barracks but it had not been much of a success. Only fifty of the estimated eight hundred poor in the city had come. Still, it was better than no one. The priest walked around the square, occasionally talking to those who had come.

...

Faramir and Beregond walked into one of the inns in the First Level. It was cramped and was not well cleaned. A smell hung in the air and most of the men sitting at the tables and around the bar paid the two new men no mind. Faramir and Beregond were wearing normal clothes to not give themselves away. According the book they got from the smith one of the men who bought lock picks was staying at an inn. After talking with the land lord of the first inn he had only stayed a few nights before going to another one. After asking numerous inn keepers they reached the latest one. They walked to the bar where a bored looking man lazily cleaned a glass with a dirty rag.

'Ale?' he asked them.

'No,' Faramir answered. 'We're looking for a man named Halon.'

'He's not here. Left this morning.'

Farmair inwardly cursed at missing him.

'Do you know where he is now?' asked Beregon.

'No.'

'Can we look in his room?' Beregond demanded from him.

'Why?'

Beregond fixed him with a glare.

'I am from the Citadel Guard. You can let us look or be arrested.'

'Room seven,' he responded quickly and pointed at the stairs in the corner of the room.

'Thank you.'

The two men moved up the stairs and they quickly walked to room seven. It was unlocked and when they went inside there wasn't much. It was a small room with a small bed pressed up against one wall and a window above it. There was also an old wardrobe in the corner and a small desk by the bed.

'Search it,' Faramir instructed and the two men quickly looked around the room.

While Faramir looked inside the wardrobe Beregond looked under the desk where he found a sheet of paper which he quickly picked up. After looking at the writing for a moment he grinned.

'Sir, you need to see this.'

...

'It's a list.'

It was early afternoon when everyone of importance in the city had gathered together in the citadel to discuss the latest piece of intelligence gathered in the investigation. The only two absentees were Father Harold and Edmund.

'What does the list show?' asked Aragorn.

'All of his targets,' answered Faramir and he held the list up to his face to read it. 'Leagwan, Ethirat, Sunniva, Etheral.'

'Whose the last planned?' Aragorn asked him.

'Queen Arwen,' he answered and everyone looked at her. 'It's as I feared.'

'More important whose next?' demanded Cyllcoth.

'A woman named Lady Calwen.'

'He'll get her soon,' said Jason. 'Your Majesty, I'll put two of our lads outside her door tonight.'

'No,' said Eowyn. 'This is the chance we've been waiting for.'

'He doesn't know we know his plans,' Aragorn guessed. 'If we put guards outside Lady Calwen's door he'll know we are onto him. We'll set a trap for the murderer,' he then turned to one of the Citadel Guards. 'Send a message to Lady Calwen. She is to come here at once.'

The soldier then left to deliver the message. As they waited for her arrival they talked about other matters.

'Captain Beregond,' said Cyllcoth, 'did you ever find out how he got in here?'

'It looks like he used lock picks on one of the doors.'

'In that case we'll put bolts on the doors from now on,' said Aragorn.

'A very wise decision Your Majesty,' Cyllcoth instantly said to him.

A while later the doors opened and two people walked in. One was a man in his fifties with slightly greying hair and the other was a woman of only twenty five years with brown hair.

'Lord Colvol and his daughter Lady Calwel,' announced one of the guards.

The two of them bowed when they reached the throne.

'Your Majesty it is an honour to be invited here,' Lord Colvol said politely. 'Is there a duty you need of us?'

'In a way yes,' Aragorn told him. 'Lord Faramir and Captain Beregond have found evidence that the murderer plans to kill Lady Calwel.'

'What?' the young woman gasped. 'Why?'

'That doesn't matter,' Aragorn told her. 'He could strike tonight for all we know so we can't waste this chance.'

'Your Majesty what do you plan to do?' Lord Colvol asked him as he held onto his daughter.

'We will set a trap for him. Lady Calwel, we cannot let him know that we aware of his plan so I must ask you to use a great amount of courage by remaining in your home tonight.'

...

The plan was simple. Calwel lived in a luxurious block of apartments in the Second Level of the city. Her family's apartment, which she shared with her parents, was on the second floor and, perhaps more importantly, a sewer ran beneath the building's basement. A group of volunteers entered the building through the sewer to avoid any attention from the outside. They then went into Lord Colvol's home and hid themselves in there. Altogether ten volunteers went in. There were two of Prince Imrahil's nights, four men from the Citadel Guard, King Eomer himself with one of his Royal Guard and finally myself and Markus. Calwel had agreed to sleep in her own bed that night only because we promised that five of us would be on guard in her room. Unfortunately I had the bad luck of being given the job of hiding under Calwel's bed. Markus was lucky that he was in the wardrobe with one of Imrahil's men while Eomer and his guard were hiding behind the curtains. The others were hiding around the home just in case he changed his plan. We weren't wearing any heavy armour. Instead we were just wearing mail to make sure we'd be able to move easily. In the cellar below waited twenty men from the Citadel Guard commanded by Aragorn and in the building across the street was another twenty men commanded by Faramir. Their job was to stop the murderer from escaping when he attacked. Waiting with Faramir's men were also ten Fire Hands, commanded by Hannastog, using a new projectile for their hand cannons which was made from hundreds of tiny shards of metal. This projectile had been named "Hornets". They waited together for the order to go.

...

I didn't have much room in my position under the bed. I tried to ignore the stiff feelings in my back and neck and just remained still. I had been there for a few hours and so far nothing had happened. As doubts about the murderer arriving started to creep into my mind I felt something. It was a strange feeling like a warm whisper in my mind. Automatically my mind had reached to Alaric and I pulled my sword out of its sheath just an inch. Along the blade I saw a flickering orange light. Just then I heard a scratching sound coming from the window so I kept my hand gripped around my sword. After a few moments the scratching stopped and I heard the window open followed by footsteps on the floor, slowly coming towards the bed. The silence was deafening and I waited for the order. The footsteps stopped by the bed and I heard the sound of a knife being pulled from a sheath.

'NOW!' I heard Eomer shout, followed by Calwel screaming.

Calwel rolled out of bed and hit the floor, allowing me to quickly throw up the bed and I jumped up. Standing before me, surrounded by the other volunteers, was a tall man wearing a black cloak and holding a long knife in one hand. He looked at each of us, trying to find a way out. Markus and one of Imrahil's knights were blocking the door while Eomer and his guard were blocking the window. He was trapped at last. Sitting in a corner of the room was Calwel.

'Drop your weapon,' Eomer ordered.

The murdered ignored him and studied each of us. He took a long look at my flickering blade before deciding on a plan of action. He charged at the Royal Guard and threw himself into the man, sinking his blade into the soldiers neck before using his momentum to jump through the window. We all ran behind him and we looked into the street as the murdered landed on the street at a crouch just as Faramir's men rushed out of there hiding places.

'Let's get down there,' Eomer said and we rushed out of the bedroom.

...

The murderer expertly used his long knife to parry the blows from the Citadel Guard. He quickly killed two of them with quick slashed from his blade but he was still surrounded. When one guard swung his sword at him the murderer dodged the blow and stabbed the man in his sword arm before moving in for the kill and cutting his neck. Just as all of us inside, including Aragorn and his men, charged out of the building ready for the fight, the murdered jumped into the air and kicked his foot onto the helmet of a guardsman, throwing him through the air further. He did this a few times and made it to the edge of the troops encircling him. Unfortunately, his path led him straight to the waiting Fire Hands.

'Fire!' Hannastog ordered and, as one, they unleashed a swarm of metal at him.

The cloud of metal shards engulfed the murder and he staggered backwards, stunned by the attack. Blood leaked out of his wounds and his shirt was shredded. Faramir and two of the guards grappled the murderer to the ground and pulled his knife away from him. He was captured. I, Markus and Eomer stood by Aragorn as Faramir's men dragged the murder to the king.

'Let's see your face,' the king said and grabbed the killers mask before pulling it off. What we saw made us all gasp. He was shaved bald and his skin was slightly pale. However, the most shocking fact about him was his ears. They were pointed.

'Avari,' Faramir gasped.

 **AN: Well he's caught at last. Sorry about taking so long to update. I was going to last week but watching the present political mess in the UK right now distracted me. I hope you liked this chapter and I liked writing it.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: Well I think that the Hornets are a fairly large development for the weapons in Middle Earth.**

 **KiyaNamiel: Yeah my aim was to make their relationship believable and not make it a really clumsy one which makes no sense in the context of their character *coughcoughattackoftheclonescoughcough***

 **I guess you feel relief at the guy being caught right?**

 **MP: Thanks for your review. I know what you mean about the characters using words like thee and thou but I decided to not do that as in many films set in that era characters speak like we do today. In the end this was done as a choice to make it easier to write.**


	27. Chapter 26 The Next Morning

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Twenty Six

The Next Morning

'What's an Avari?'

It had been an hour since the murderer had been captured and everyone who was needed, aside from Edmund and Father Harold, were present in the Tower of Ecthelion. A few had been roused from their beds and were still tired while Jason had been found in an inn on the first level of the city. The man who had asked the question was my uncle.

'The Avari, Sir James, are Elves,' Arwen started when the doors opened to let Father Harold in.

'I'm so sorry I'm late,' he said as he briskly walked up to the group gathered before the throne.

'Where have you been all day?' Robert asked him.

'I was talking with a family who wanted to convert,' he explained. 'Have I missed anything?'

'We caught the murderer,' Eomer told him.

'And he's an Elf,' Markus added.

Harold looked at them both for a few moments and then he nodded to tell them he understood.

'As I was saying,' Arwen continued, 'the Avari are my kind who refused to answer Orome's call and go to Valinor. They chose to remain in Middle Earth and slowly fade with it.'

'Then what was he doing planning on becoming a kin slayer?' asked Markus.

'We will do all we can to find out why he did this,' Aragorn answered my cousin. 'More importantly, we will find out if this thug had a master.'

'Let's hope he doesn't,' said Eomer. 'If he does it bodes ill for our lands.'

'I promise you my friend that we will uncover the truth,' said Aragorn before looking at Faramir. 'Send out the town criers in the morning. They will announce that the murderer has been arrested and my ban on leaving the city is lifted.'

'Of course Your Majesty,' he said and bowed before leaving.

'You may all return to your business,' Aragorn said before allowing himself to smile. 'We can be at peace again.'

...

'The Hornet shot worked perfectly,' Hannastog said as he and my uncle walked into their shared study.

'Of course it did my friend,' my uncle responded as he sat behind his desk. 'The healers say that the Hornet was enough to knock him down but he won't die from the wounds.'

'Just like we thought it would.'

'Let's make sure the king doesn't know we never tested it.'

'About that, I got two of the men to fire into pig carcasses this morning as proof we tested it.'

'Good thinking. Now, we have a lot of work to do.'

'Still planning on visiting your land?'

'Of course. I was planning on it just after the tournament but then the murders happened. I need to get there as soon as I can.'

'Fair enough. Now, we have to work out how much we'll need to make the ribault.'

...

The citadels dungeon was a dark, cold place. The dark halls were dug into the rock of the mountains itself and the cells bars were made from solid iron. The dungeons were only used for those considered to be too dangerous to be kept in the normal city prison. Aragorn and Faramir walked down one of the narrow corridors to the most secure cell in the Gondor. It was at the end of a corridor where the only light came from the occasional torch on the walls. The cell was not barred like the others. Instead there was a single iron door with a hatch in it for pushing food in. Twenty Citadel Guard stood outside the door and when the king and steward approaching they stood aside, allowing their leader access to the cell. One of them unlocked the door and opened it enough to let the two leaders in. The cell was sparse. In one corner there was a straw mattress, in the other was a bucket and that was all. Sitting on the mattress was the Avari. He wore a black tunic and trousers but Aragorn could still see bandages on the Elf which covered the wounds the Fire Hands had inflicted on him. The Avari was chained up as well. The chains around his wrists were connected to the wall furthest from the door and gave him enough length to move from the bed to the bucket but not anywhere near the door. Aragorn had ordered that no chances were to be taken with this prisoner.

'This cell was built during the kin strife,' Aragorn explained to the Avari. 'It was meant to hold generals taken prisoner. Now it holds a murderer.'

'We want you to tell us everything,' Faramir said to him as harshly as he could. 'You murdered innocent women, one of whom was with child. You tried to murder a noblewoman. You tried to murder the betrothed of knight. You planned to murder our queen. Why?'

The Avari looked at the man before him and stood up, his chains clinking and waving above him.

'Why does it matter?' the Avari asked in a hoarse voice.

'It matters because of our laws,' Aragorn told him. 'The normal punishment for murder is exile from the realm of Gondor but you have done more than that. You killed an unborn baby and planned to kill my love,' Aragorn said, anger seeping into his words and an enraged scowl appearing across his face. 'For what you have done the punishment will be death. If you tell us everything I will change that to life imprisonment.'

The Avari laughed at that but it was cold and sarcastic.

'Even for one raised by Elves you forget that we are immortal. If you lock me in here for eternity it won't matter. A thousand years will mean nothing to me.'

'It's better than death.'

'I welcome death.'

'Then perhaps I will grant you it,' Aragorn said and walked closer to him very slowly. 'I spoke with Sir James once and he told me that where comes from the punishment for you would be far worse than anything we do in Gondor. In his land they would drag out your death over hours and hours, slowly tearing you apart piece by piece and believe me I am tempted to do just that.'

'You wouldn't. You are weak. Your kingdom is weak.'

'Gondor is strong.'

'Gondor is doomed.'

'And how do you know that?'

The Avari didn't say a word. Instead he laughed again before sitting back down on his bed and crossing his arms.

'If you want we'll be back tomorrow,' Faramir said before the two men left the cell. The door was quickly closed behind them, drowning the Avari in darkness.

...

'Good.'

...

 **AN: Sorry this took ages but for the past few weeks everytime I was about to start writing I'd look at the news and I'd be hooked. Let's face it, over the past few weeks Britain left the EU (yay), David Cameron quit, Theresa May became PM and Boris Johnson was made Foreign Minister (dear world, on behalf of the UK, sorry). Anyway, with any luck I'll be back into the writing mojo from now on with decent sized chapers. I've also been brainstorming an idea for a Star Wars story which may or may not be written.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: Yeah that's right. Tolkien knew that it was a good idea to not explain everything as that takes the mystery out of it. Thanks for your review.**

 **gginsc: Yep an Elf.**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm glad you liked that chapter and I'm glad the relationship between Sunniva and John isn't Sandy. I, by the, love Avengers of the Ring and reading it was one of the reasons I started writing on this site as well.**

 **Oh by the way, THRAWN IS CANON! YAY!**


	28. Chapter 27 The Way Forwards

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Sorry this took so long to update but I've discovered Hearts of Iron 4 and I'm hooked.**

 **First of all, I have a theory. A while back I was reading up on Hobbits and one thing which bugged me was just that they came into existence and their creation is unknown. As a result I set out to come up with a theory as to who created the Hobbits and I think I've figured it out. Are you ready for this? I think that the Hobbits were created by the Valar Este. Here me out. Think about it. The Hobbits are beings who typically don't like adventure or war and prefer to live a relaxed life, which is similar to Este who spends her days resting on a relaxing island. Secondly, one thing which I think is odd about the Lord of the Rings is the fact that Gollum had the Ring and basically became Lindsay Lohan while Bilbo was mostly fine. What if one of the reasons for that is because Gollum spent most of his time with the Ring alone while Bilbo was surrounded by the creation of the Valar of Healing? What do you think is this plausible or is it as mad as my theory that Tommy Wiseau really being an alien theory or that the new Ghostbusters film was a money laundering scheme theory?**

 **Anyway, here's an interesting thing that happened. The other day me and some friends of mine, one of whom had never seen the Lord of the Rings before, did a LOTR marathon. All three films in one night. How did it go? It started great. My friend dropped an f bomb when the Ring slipped onto Frodo's finger at Bree (seriously that was a bit ridiculous). At the end of Fellowship we ordered massive pizzas and I broke out the booze. We ate and drank and made jokes. However, my friend who had never seen those films before thought it was going to end at the coronation. When Frodo started narrating he said, "It's still going?" By the end of it he was swearing at the TV and we all pretended there was another twenty minutes to go. God, that was fun.**

 **Finally, I have finished writing the first chapter of my Star Wars story and is out now. Its name is Hate and Serenity.**

Chapter Twenty Seven

The Way Forwards

When the news came out that the murderer had been caught the city was filled with a wave of relief. This was easy to see in every street and, in particular, in every inn. However, there were some who were a little annoyed. For example, Edmund found himself with too many daggers which no one wanted to buy. In the end he had to sell them for scrap even though he lost money on that one. Some others as well, who had been selling amulets which would "protect" the wearer from the killer, found themselves without any business. However, for the Council it was business as usual. It was the day after the Avari had been caught as the Council started their meeting. Edmund was still not there as the Healers wouldn't let him leave for a few more days. The main speaker of the meeting was Father Harold who stood up from his chair and cleared his throat before speaking.

'My friends, today I feel it is the right time to tell you that I have finished writing the constitution of our new church,' after he was confident his words had sunk in he continued. 'Of course I tried to remain as faithful to the traditions of our faith as possible but our situation is unprecedented so I have had to make some changes, one of which was brought about in a discussion I had with His Majesty a few months ago.'

'I think you had better explain that aspect first Father,' said my uncle.

'I was going to. Anyway, a few months ago, just before you returned from Erebor James, I was speaking with the king about the Bible. When I told him that it is only written in Latin he disagreed with the reasons. I believe that many people in this world will object to Latin, a language only a select few know, being used as the only language in which our scripture is written.'

'So you want to write it in English?' Jason asked him.

'The Common Tongue,' Markus corrected him.

'Same thing.'

'That is what I believe should be done yes,' Father Harold answered him.

'You are aware Father that in our old world that would be heresy?' Robert asked him.

'I know but I suspect that if the rest of our world found out what happened to us the Inquisition would have us all executed. I think that translating the Bible is the least of our concerns.'

'Carry on,' my uncle instructed, keeping his own feelings on the matter hidden.

'Thank you. The next point I wish to bring up is the leadership of the new church. As I am the only priest who came through to this world I am the leader of the faith here. However, I will not make myself a Pope or anything like that. My position will be Archbishop of Minas Tirith, I will act as the representative of the Pope and if we ever contact our old world again I will hand my authority to him.'

'That is acceptable,' my uncle said and then motioned him to continue.

'The next issue is the recruitment of priests. As you all know joining the priesthood is both an honour but a large sacrifice. Because of this I doubt that many men from this world will be willing to join and if that doesn't happen I can't see how Christianity can last very long. Because of this I have decided that some of the aspects of being a priest will be changed. In particular, celibacy will no longer be compulsory for priests.'

'What does that mean?' asked Jason.

'It means that priests will be allowed to marry and have children if they wish,' Father Harold explained before adding. 'However, any who wish to become Bishops will have to be celibate. My last point is how we will regard the king. We will acknowledge the king of Gondor as being appointed by God and give him authority to advise the church on important matters.'

'Thank you Father, or Your Grace, that is,' my uncle said to him. 'Now, I understand that you also wished to let us know how many people have spoken to you about converting.'

'Yes James. In the past week three families have come to me, asking if they will be allowed to become Christians. This is, in part, thanks to the war. These people saw their homes destroyed and their city almost sacked by the Orcs. This has made some of them question their old belief in Illuvitar while others wish to convert because of you James. You led the defence of this city and you came close to throwing the Orcs back and this has made some of them believe God was with us that day.'

'When do you plan on starting baptisms?' Markus asked him.

'In a way I already have with Sunniva. I don't believe that waiting for the church to be finished in the next three or four months is wise so I will begin baptisms in our barracks chapel very soon with your permission.'

'I think we can agree that permission is granted,' my uncle told him.

'Excellent. There are also knights though who wish to join our order. Should they be baptised before the church is finished as well?'

'I think that it is different for knights over ordinary people,' Robert spoke up. 'For knights it should require ceremony which our small chapel can't provide. We should wait until the church has been built.'

'I agree,' my uncle added.

'Very well.'

...

While the Council held their meeting Rickard and I were outside in the yard practising with our blades. I jabbed at him but he easily parried the blow before following up with his own attack from above which I side stepped before hitting him in the back of the knee with the flat of my sword with enough force to knock him over. I moved quickly and planted my foot on his chest and Alaric at his throat.

'Do you yield?' I asked him.

'Of course I do,' he said before I helped him up. 'So that's one each now. Fancy another go?'

'Let's just get a drink first,' I said before walking to a table at the edge of the yard with some cups sitting on it next to a jug of wine.

We poured ourselves a cup of wine each before drinking it quickly. It was a good wine but it was not the best which was being saved for special occasions.

'Now you're getting married when do you want to move out of the barracks?'

'I'm not sure,' I answered him. 'To be honest I didn't give it much thought when I asked her.'

'I can move out of our room if you want. Mind you the walls are a bit thin in the barracks.'

'Shut up,' I said sharply and drank from the cup in an effort to hide the red colour on my face. 'How do you know how thin the walls are?'

'Howard in the next room asked me to stop you snoring.'

'I snore?'

'That's right. I don't know how Sunniva's ever going to get any sleep. Then again I don't think you'll be getting any sleep anyway.'

'That's it. Forget the swords; I'm going to kick your arse.'

...

As she walked through the corridor of the Servants Quarters she slid her finger over the ring which she wore proudly as she approached her room's door she refused to even look at the spot where the Avari had attacked her. She pushed open the door and stepped in to see her three room mates were sitting on their bunk beds talking to each other. When she stepped in they all stopped and looked at Sunniva. There was a moment of silence which was quickly followed by a bombardment of words and questions.

'One at a time please,' Sunniva almost shouted.

'How bad is it?' asked one, whose name was Adrude. 'I heard he nearly took your head off.'

'It could have been worse,' Sunniva said and then moved her head to better show the wound which had become a prominent scar on her neck.

'Nasty,' Adrude commented.

'You should see him if you think that's bad,' Sunniva responded with a smirk.

'Why do you look so happy?' asked another named Lefsued.

At that Sunniva chuckled for a second before walking to her bed, which was on the bottom bunk, and sitting down on it.

'Well, I'm as happy as you could be if you were me right now.'

'Why?' asked Lefsued, suddenly she and all the others became interested in just what was going on.

'Where to start I wonder,' Sunniva said sucked in air between her teeth before brushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear with her ring hand. 'I'm alive for a start.'

'What's that on your finger?' Lefsued asked quickly and three sets of eyes snapped to Sunniva's finger.

'An engagement ring,' she answered.

'He asked you?' Adrude demanded.

'John did yes.'

'You marrying a knight,' declared the third one, whose name was Eldre before quickly standing up and curtsying. 'Forgive me for not bowing sooner milady.'

The four of them laughed at that as the other three started curtsying as well.

'Alright stop it already,' Sunniva told them but she couldn't stop herself from laughing as well.

'Sorry Sunniva,' Lefsued apologised after she got her breath back from laughing. 'Does this mean you're still working with us servants at the feast tomorrow night?'

'Of course,' Sunniva told her. 'I'm not a lady yet.'

'Will you be marrying the right way or do you Cothlics have a special way of doing it?' asked Eldre.

'Catholics,' Sunniva corrected her, feeling slightly annoyed. 'And yes, we do have our own way of marrying.'

'We don't have to watch do we?' asked Adrude before winking which drew an outraged laugh from the three others.

'No, no, no,' Sunniva said and shook her head. 'No. No. Nooooooooooo.'

'Thank goodness for that,' Lefsued said before slightly elbowing Adrude. 'When's the wedding?'

'It's going to wait till after the church is built and then after John's cousin's wedding so probably June or July. Oh God I can't wait.'

'I can't imagine why,' Adrude said and Lefsued elbowed her again.

'Will you still work as a servant until then?' Lefsued asked her. 'I mean, well, I don't think a soon to be noble as a servant would look good.'

'I think Father Harold said that with humility comes wisdom and with pride disgrace,' Sunniva answered. 'I think I'm fine as a servant for now,' when she saw that the others had accepted that she smiled before adding, 'although, I think I might need you lot to carry me around when my feet hurt.'

Again they laughed at that until Adrude stood up.

'I think we should celebrate and I know a way into the wine cellar. I'll be back in a bit.'

 **AN: So that's the latest chapter. I know not much happened here but I'm just getting back into my writing mojo. However, regular chapters should be back soon. Give me your thoughts and tell me what you think of my theory. Also, check out Hate and Serenity. I put a lot of mental thought into it so I would appreciate it if you checked it out.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP: I'm nat familiar with the story of the Princess and the Dragon.**

 **Kiya Namiel: Yeah, I love keeping up tension. Thank you very much for saying I get better with every chapter. It means a lot to me. Also, I'm glad for Brexit because, firstly, it sounds like a breakfast ccerial and secondly Britain has a proud tradition of annoying Europe since Thomas Cromwell was around and kicking.**


	29. Chapter 28 The Wedding of Markus Harris

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **Fifteen years ago a tragedy occurred. A tragedy orchestrated by evil men who pretend to fight for a religion which emphasises peace and love but have perverted its true meaning by a sadistic lust for individual power. Since that day so long ago which we all know the free world has been in one long, brutal battle to stamp out this darkness. To all who claim that to continue the fight is wrong, I have one thing to say. They will not stop until every aspect of our society is torn down and replaced by fear and intolerance. We must continue the fight or all is lost.**

Chapter Twenty Eight

The Wedding of Markus Harris

In the months after the Avari was caught numerous things happened but unfortunately none of them were worthy to devote entire lengths of this story to so I will summarise them here. Father Harold began his work on translating the Bible into the Common Tongue which he was able to do at a good pace. He also oversaw the completion of the church of Saint Mary which was a stunning sight to behold once finished. The entire building was made from white Gondorian stone and at the rear of the church was a tall square tower which held a pair of bells. The main doors were in the side of the building and once in we would be greeted by a large open space with a white stone floor. However, in the centre of that space on the floor was a mosaic of a large cross made from green stones. The tower was located directly above that. After that turning left you would see the nave and at the far end of the church was the boundary between the nave and the sanctuary. At the far end of that was a slightly raised dais on which stood the altar and above that, on the west wall, was the West Window showing the image of the Virgin Mary. When the light shone through it we saw an incredible sight.

The day after the murderer had been arrested the Rohan party left and went back to Edoras, Sunniva amongst them. Naturally she wanted to make sure all of her business back home was sorted out and she needed to let her brother know what had happened. In Minas Tirith, as Markus would soon be wed, my uncle bought his son an apartment a few streets away from the barracks to be his home.

My uncle at last managed to go to his lands which were gifted to him. He and Rickard went there and we received a letter from them about two weeks later. It appeared that the previous owner of the land had been an old man who died without an heir. Unfortunately when he died his land had not been in as good a condition as the King had been led to believe. Many of the farmers were working with tools which were in bad condition and several groups of bandits had been looting from the most isolated farms. On top of that, a fire had torn apart the castle in the area. My uncle responded to all this with all of his energy and spirit. His first action was to move into an inn as a temporary home in a town right next to the ruins of the castle. He then ordered the castle to be rebuilt in the style of his old castle back in England.

While work began on the castle he turned his attention to problem of banditry. He introduced the punishment of putting any bandits found in the stockade if they were caught. As for those who wouldn't surrender my uncle prepared his men at arms for a small campaign. Most of his men at arms were farmers who were called up for short times and for armour they had padded jackets with a few possessing mail. For weapons they mostly carried a spear and a shield with a dagger. My uncle knew that he needed better so he selected the best of them, coming to a total of two hundred men on foot and twenty cavalry, and made them train hard for two months. In addition to that he ordered the local smiths and leather workers to prepare armour and weapons for each of them. Soon each man wore a coat of brigandine armour, a mail shirt, a kettle helm and a strong padded jacket. For weapons fifty men were trained as archers and were armed with longbows and daggers. The rest of the infantry were armed with a Gondorian shield. They were also given a sword and the cavalry were given a lance. My uncle and Rickard launched a quick attack and killed many of the bandits. The rest were captured and imprisoned.

My uncle and Rickard spent around three months there before returning to Minas Tirith for Markus's wedding to Hethnina. My uncle and Rickard arrived three days before the wedding. It started as a fairly normal day with me writing a letter to Sunniva in my room. Our own wedding would happen a month after my cousins and we were both excited for it. We had made all the arrangements for our union and in truth the only thing which saddened us was that her brother didn't wish to move to Minas Tirith with his sister. I understand why of course. His friends and his entire life were there and he, understandably, didn't wish to leave. Just as I finished my letter to her I heard a knock at my door.

'Come in,' I said and then Markus walked in.

'They're back,' he said and at that I smiled before hurrying up and following my cousin down to the front door.

We stood by the front doors for a few minutes and then the tapping clopping sounds of hooves filled the air before four horses came into view. Markus and I both smiled when we saw the first two to be my cousin's father and brother. The two of them looked tired but relieved to be back in Minas Tirith. Just behind the two of them rode two knights wearing brigandine armour and carrying lances. On their rectangular shields I saw what I first thought to be a Gondorian emblem. My uncle and cousin climbed off their horses and they at once walked over to us and embraced Markus and then me.

'Welcome home father,' Markus said to him.

'It's good to see you both again,' I said to them both.

'I'm glad to be back,' my uncle told us. 'Three months of organising building work and fighting criminals is not a thing a man my age should ever do.'

'How was the battle then?' I asked him.

'Short,' Rickard told us. 'I just led a charge and they ran. I let the infantry mop the rest of them up.'

'And I learned that my armour's a little tight,' my uncle laughed. 'I've been sitting around too much.'

'At least we're back for your wedding,' Rickard said to his brother and slapped him on the shoulder. 'And I think you need a drink before it.'

'Of course I do brother,' Markus told him. 'As long as you pay for it.'

The three of us laughed and my uncle just smiled before tossing a leather purse to one of the knights who came with him.

'Take the horses to the stable and find yourselves an inn.'

'Thank you Sir James,' he responded and just before they turned around I caught a sight of the emblem on his shield.

At first glance it looked like the White Tree of Gondor but then I saw that it was different. Indeed there was a tree on it but over the tree was a cross. Around the cross, by the arms and above the head of it, were a total of three stars.

'Uncle,' I said to him, 'what's the emblem on their shields?'

'Oh that. John, that's our old family emblem. I think my great grandfather changed it to what we used when we fought for King Richard. I think that changing it back was for the best.'

'I agreed,' Rickard added.

'I almost thought it was the White Tree.'

'I suppose it's similar,' he responded before moving on. 'Now, I need to unpack and give my regards to the king.'

'Of course father,' Markus said to him and offered to help carry up his pack.

...

'You won't believe how quickly they broke,' Rickard laughed as the usual group of us sat at our table in the Long Sword. 'They were running before we even reached them.'

'It's good to see Sir James can still lead men,' Edmund commented.

'He's been a commander for decades,' Markus told him. 'You know about two years before King Richard was killed he was put in command of one of the gates at the Tower of London, the king trusted him that much.'

'Wasn't that when King Edward's bastards vanished?' asked Edmund.

'Yes it was around that time. Anyway, how's work on the castle coming on Rickard?'

'They've finished the foundations and have started on the moat. It's going to look exactly like the one back ho-I mean back in England.'

'I can't wait to see it when it's done,' I said but and then I remembered something which made me grin. 'Markus, do you think the steps will be as steep as they were at home?'

'Oh not this story,' he said as Rickard and I laughed.

'What story?' asked Mathew, suddenly intrigued.

'Well,' I started, ' when I was fifteen Rickard found out that the girls in one of our favourite taverns had a baby.'

'And we got her involved in a joke on my beloved brother here,' Rickard added on as Markus glared at us. 'We got her into the castle with her baby and then we walked up to Markus here she said "This is yours" and he fainted.'

At that Edmund and Mathew burst out laughing at my eldest cousins annoyed face.

'Come on Markus it is funny,' Edmund told him.

'It would have been funny if you'd done it anywhere but the top of the stairs,' Markus said and that made us all laugh even more.

'Father was furious,' Rickard remembered.

'What did he do?' asked Mathew.

'He swore and shouted at us both for a few hours and then made us clean out the stables for a month,' I said.

'With your hands,' Markus added, smiling at last.

'But it was worth it,' Rickard said.

'You speak for yourself,' I told him. 'I can still smell it.'

'Wait till I tell Hethnina,' Rickard said and drank some of his beer.

'Don't you dare!' Markus snapped but when he saw us laughing he knew it was a joke.

'Alright I won't.'

'So are you looking forward to your wedding?' I asked him.

'Of course. A bit nervous though but it's the same for Hethnina.'

'Just remember, don't drink too much afterwards,' I told him.

'Or Hethnina won't be happy,' said Rickard.

'Rickard,' I chided him.

'Sorry, sorry, sorry.'

...

Hethnina stood in her bedroom on the afternoon of the wedding as her mother finished adjusting her daughter's wedding gown. It was a beautiful white colour with wide sleeves which fanned out around her wrists. The gown was wrapped tightly around her waist and then spread out straight down to the floor. On her head she wore a silver circlet which sat perfectly with her hair. It was made in a pattern of vines and flowers with a moonstone heart in the centre of it over her eyes. Hanging from her shoulders was a long cape made from the thinnest of fabrics which flowed along the ground behind her and was connected to her wrists and swayed like water with every movement she made.

'There we are,' Hethnera said to her daughter as she fastened the cape to Hethnina's wrist. 'All ready now.'

'Thank you mother,' Hethnina said quietly.

'Are you alright?' she asked.

'Of course,' she responded and smiled.

'Every woman's allowed to be worried on her wedding day,' Hethnera told her. 'I certainly way.'

'Did anything go wrong?'

'Not a thing. I'm sure that's what will happen today.'

'I hope so.'

'Now just remember, if Markus does anything wrong to you tell us and your father will use him as a target for a cannon.'

'I don't doubt it,' Hethnina said and they both laughed just as there was a knock on the door. 'Come in.'

The door opened and Hannastog walked in wearing fine dark blue clothes. He took one look at his daughter and smiled.

'By the stars you radiant,' he declared and hugged her.

'Than you father,' she said to him.

'The carriage is outside ready to take you to the church,' he told her.

'Then let's get going,' she said and the three of them walked out.

...

The area around the main doors around the church doors was filled with the relatives and friends of Hethnina and Markus, all wearing their finest clothes. On the right hand side of the doors, wearing a dark red doublet, a new red cape with gold stitching along the edges was Markus and nearby him was Rickard and their father. I stood in the crowd next to young Mathew as we eagerly waited for the bride to arrive. The church bells were ringing and the air was charged with excitement. I looked up at the doors where I saw the two brothers laughing a little.

'How much am I allowed to drink after?' Mathew asked me

The doors opened and Father Harold stepped out, said a few words to Markus and then the carriage carrying Hethnina, her brother and her parents rolled into the street. My uncle stepped away from his sons and came to stand next to me.

'Won't be long until you're standing there John,' he said.

'I know uncle. I'm nervous for it.'

'Why?'

'I don't want to let down Sunniva.'

'I'm sure you won't nephew. I'm sure you won't.'

Hethnina and her family climbed out of the carriage and Hannastog escorted his daughter to the doors before standing by her at the bottom of the church steps. The wedding began with the Arch Bishop of Minas Tirith saying,

'Markus Harris, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, will you love her, and honour her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep yourself only unto her, so long as you both live?'

'I will,' my cousin responded.

'Hethnina daughter of Hannastog and Hethnera, will you have this man to be your husband, and to buxom to him, serve him and keep him in sickness and in health so long as you both shall live?'

'I will,' Hethnina said and smiled nervously at Markus.

'Sir Markus, please repeat after me. I Markus Luke Harris, take Hethnina, daughter of Hannastog and Hethnera.'

'I Markus Luke Harris, take Hethnina, daughter of Hannastog and Hethnera.'

'To be my lawful wedded wife.'

'To be my lawful wedded wife.'

'To have and to hold, from this day forward.'

'To have and to hold from this day forward.'

'For better or for worse.'

'For better or for worse.'

'For richer or poorer.'

'For richer or poorer.'

'In sickness and in health, till death do us part, if the holy church will ordain it.'

'In sickness and in health, till death do us part, if the holy church will ordain it.'

'And therefore I plight thee onto my troth.'

'And therefore I plight thee onto my troth.'

Harold then looked at Hethnina and repeated the same vows with her. We all watched with smiles on our faces although I did notice that Hethnera was trying to hold back some tears Hannastog was comforting her. Rickard handed Markus the wedding ring who then looked at Hethnina and said,

'With this ring I thee wed, with my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost amen.'

He slipped the ring onto Hethnina's finger and then she repeated a similar vow as she gave him another ring. After that Arch Bishop Harold raised his arms out to his sides and loudly declared,

'You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen.'

He then led us all into the church and Markus and Hethnina knelt before the alter where Harold gave a prayer and blessed them before saying,

'I now declare you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.'

The two of them stood up and then, after a nervous moment, they kissed to our applause.

...

The inside of the Green Crown was filled with laughter and cheering as we enjoyed our drink and food. Our two families were now sitting on a high table at the head of the room with Markus and Hethnina sitting in the middle of the table. I noticed that they were talking together almost constantly, something which I noticed about them. The two of them often talked for a long time about anything. I drank some more wine and then ate some venison as my uncle explained to me what was going on in his lands. As the night went on the festivities never seemed to end and the drink kept on flowing. Altogether I had enjoyed every part of that day which ended in the early evening when Markus escorted Hethnina to their home, the apartment which his father had paid for.

 **...**

 **AN: Sorry this took a while. Just so you know, weddings in the 15** **th** **century usually began outside the church doors. The vows were based on the York Missal, most commonly used before the reign of Henry VIII. I researched 15** **th** **century marriage customs but unfortunately most of the stuff online seemed to have been written by SJW's who can only focus on how unfair it all was and not so much on the acts of marriage itself. As a result this was mostly a combination of early Anglican wedding customs and catholic customs. It was the best I could do.**

 **Secondly, I've published a Star Wars one shot called Attack of the Cloned Alternate Ending. Check it out if you want.**

 **By the way, there was a historical reference in this one. Did any of you spot it?**

 **I've also noticed something about helmets. All the heroes in nearly every fantasy setting ever do not wear helmets and when they do the helmets do not protect their faces in any good way at all. Aragorn didn't wear a helmet in the films, Theoden didn't wear a helmet for half the Battle of Helms Deep and when he did it didn't protect much of his face and Legolas never wore a helmet at all, probably because it would ruin his perfect hair. The only characters who have decent head protection are extras and Orcs. Seriously, Games Workshop made fun of that in the novel Horus Rising where a character named Lucius wasn't wearing a helmet while fighting giant alien bug monsters on a planet named Murder, someone told him to "Put a f*****g helmet on!" and he responded by saying, "I can't be bothered." I just wanted to bring this up.**

 **I hope you all liked this chapter and please give me your thoughts on it.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel:**

 **Thanks very much for your opinion on my writing. I'm glad you find my Este theory plausible. The one problem with the marathon I held though is that one of my friends now hates Return of the King. Still, I did notice something in that viewing of it though. Remember how I mentioned Zulu ages back, well it turns out that Peter Jackson actually referenced it in Return of the King. The scene where Rohan's army arrives at Minas Tirith is based on the way the Zulu army arrived at Rorkes Drift. Now I love that film even more.7**

 **ATP:**

 **Thanks for the info on the Avari princess. Also, yes, that thing about Orthodox priests is what inspired the changes made in this story. For the record I did ask a priest what he thought of the changes I made before hand and he said that they sound plausible.**


	30. Chapter 29 At long last

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: Just for note, as you may have guessed by the title of this chapter, this is the big day for John and Sunniva. As such I decided to include in this chapter a romance scene. If any of you are easily offended then I recommend you skip the end of this chapter but I have not made it graphic. It's the first time I've written one and I hope I handled it with maturity.**

Chapter Twenty Nine

At long last

'Are you sure this will work?'

'Of course it will work.'

My uncle and Hannastog were in the firing yard of the Royal Powder Force buildings as some men loaded the latest weapon created. The Defence Olla was a very small weapon, only coming up to knee height but it was extremely heavy and the ball it fired was barely large enough to be held with two hands. It was made from two parts, a very wide metal barrel which pointed up at a very steep angle and a small wooden platform on wheels. The idea behind the weapon was that in a siege and the enemy moved their battering ram up to the gates the Olla would fire over the wall and drop iron balls onto the ram destroying it. Unfortunately the previous four times they tested the weapon it had exploded and injured a few of the workers there. The king had made it clear that if anyone else was hurt testing the Olla they would have to stop work on the weapon.

'Loaded sir,' one of the workers said to Hannastog.

'Very good,' he said and then he nodded at one of his men with an extra long pole and wick on it who cautiously walked towards the Olla.

'Get into cover everyone,' Hannastog instructed and everyone in the yard rushed to get behind a newly made low wall which had a few impact marks on it.

When the man touched the Olla's powder charge with the wick he rushed away and jumped behind the wall and landed next to my uncle. An instant later there was a large blasting sound followed by a whoosh. Everyone then stood up and looked into the sky at the heavy iron ball flying up into the sky.

'Well done my friend,' my uncle said to Hannastog as they both smiled at their success.

'It looks like His Majesty won't be stopping this one.'

'Sir,' Captain Borson said to Hannastog, 'where's that ball going to come down?'

At that their smiles vanished as they saw the ball falling towards a nearby building. A second later the ball crashed straight through the roof with a crash and the two leaders of the Powder Force looked at each other with worried expressions.

'Borson!' Hannastog shouted. 'Take five men and check if anyone's hurt.'

'Yes sir,' he said at once but before he could get going a woman appeared at one of the windows of the building they hit.

'You fools destroyed my roof!' she screamed.

'We're sorry,' my uncle shouted.

'Say sorry to this!' she screamed before reaching into her room and pulling out a large white chamber pot and threw it as hard as possible at them but it fell a good distance short. When she walked back inside Hannastog pulled out his purse and after looking at a few gold coins he shook his head and passed the whole thing to Borson.

'Captain, please give this to the woman, tell her we'll pay for the roof and ask her if we can have our cannon ball back.'

'Yes sir,' he meekly responded and then walked away to carry out his orders.

'The king won't be happy about this,' my uncle said to his friend.

'Next time we'll test it outside the city.'

...

I woke up with a slight headache and as I tried to sort through my memories I remembered drinking, singing and yet more drinking. Suddenly I remembered our reasons for the celebration and a smile rapidly spread across my face. It was, at long last, my wedding day to Sunniva. She, her relatives and her friends were staying at an inn near the barracks. I was in my bed in the barracks and when I looked the room at Rickard I was not surprised to see him almost completely unconscious and half hanging out of his bed. Suddenly feeling energised I jumped out of bed and prodded him hard to wake him up. It took a few times but eventually he awoke but his mind was still wrapped up in his dreams.

'What's groaning ron?' he slurred.

'I'm getting married,' I reminded with a smile on my face.

'Hooray,' he said sarcastically and pulled his sheet over his head.

'I'm getting married,' I said again, slightly impatiently.

'I know you sai-wait what?' At that my cousin jumped out of his bed and looked at me. 'That's why we got drunk last night wasn't it?'

'Yes.'

'Then why are we still talking? Don't we have a lot of work to do?'

'Yes.'

'Then let's do this!'

'Good idea.'

'You get dressed, I'll, erm, I'll do something.'

'Great.'

...

A few hours later I stood outside the church door with Rickard by my side and I felt incredibly self-conscious of every move I made. I remembered seeing Markus stand in that exact same spot just over a month earlier at his wedding. I looked into the massive group standing before the church and saw Markus there with Hethnina. They looked happy together and Markus smiled when he saw me glancing over at him. We shared a nod just as a ripple went through the crowd as a small procession made their way towards the church. They were Sunniva's relatives, I saw an aunt and uncle who I met a few days before, there was Cenric wearing his best clothes and the rest of them were Sunniva's bridesmaids. Unfortunately their positions made it impossible for me to see my love and I couldn't help but tap my foot from nerves.

'What are you worried about?' Rickard whispered to me.

'Nothing.'

'You can't lie to me.'

'I just want to see what her dress looks like. I've not seen it yet.'

'I don't think it's her in the dress you're interested about,' he said and shifted his eye brows suggestively.

'Shut up,' I hissed at him but I couldn't help but laugh. I do however admit there was some truth to what he said.

Just then the group from Rohan came to the front of the crowd and my jaw almost dropped when I saw Sunniva. She was more beautiful than ever. Her dark blonde hair was in a simple yet wonderful braid down her back and on her head rested a garland of white flowers. She wore a plain yet wonderful white dress with sleeves which fanned out at the elbow. She was the love of my life and I knew that at that moment we would be together forever. She came to stand next to me on the steps of the church and Arch Bishop Harold began the ceremony. It seemed to me to go by in a blur as my only focus was on my love.

'You may kiss the bride,' Harold said at last and I kissed my wife softly yet with more fire and passion than ever before.

My wife. Sometimes, looking back on my life, it is hard to imagine a time when I would have been married but now I cannot imagine a day without her. Later we all gathered at the Green Crown for the celebration of our marriage.

I and Sunniva sat at the middle of the high table listening to the group of minstrels playing an upbeat local song.

'Are you enjoying yourself?' I asked Sunniva.

'Of course,' she answered with a wide smile. 'Why wouldn't I?'

'I'm just worrying too much,' I said and laughed.

'We both know you shouldn't. This is the greatest day of our lives.'

'And the happiest,' I added and we gently kissed again. 'Is your brother still sure he wants to stay in Edoras?'

'He won't leave his friends behind,' she told me. 'Still, he's a smart lad. He can handle himself.'

'He lasted against an Uruk. If that's not proof that he's tough nothing is.'

'I'm serious John,' she said and then hushed her voice a little. 'He wants to join the Royal Guard.'

'Is he good enough?'

'He's practicing well enough. When he's sixteen he'll try to join.'

'I hope he good luck there.'

'I'll pray he'll join it.'

'So will I.'

I looked along the table to Cenric who was listening to my uncle tell him what happened during the siege intently. I had noticed that many of the young in Gondor had been told about the siege many times in their lives and with each retelling the tales got grander and more ridiculous. Once I had even heard a version where my uncle killed ten Trolls with one swing of his sword and another where he and Lord Denethor fought back to back at the very gates of the Citadel. I hope I have managed to provide an accurate retelling of the story at least. Anyway, the party involved much feasting and drinking but I decided not to drink too much, unlike Rickard who had to be carried out by Markus and Mathew. Just after sunset my uncle said that he was feeling tired so he left after warning me that if I ever hurt Sunniva he would make me wish I had never been born. After he left many of the guests started to slowly depart as well, all of them congratulating Sunniva and I for our union. In the end we decided to leave as well and go to the apartment my uncle had bought for us. It was located not too far from the barracks and altogether it was a fantastic place to call our new home. Neither of us had spent a night there before, we wanted to leave that until we were finally married, but we had made sure it was too our liking. There was a large living room with a good sized fireplace and a few chairs and couches were located around it. In one corner there was a writing desk and four doors led off from the living room. They led to the kitchen, washroom, the smaller bedroom and the main bedroom.

That night, my wedding night, was perhaps the most serene experience of my life. She led me into our room where my lips pressed into Sunniva as we fell onto our bed. With our lips still connected I guided Sunniva's hands to the sides of my shirt which we quickly pulled off breaking our kiss. I looked down at her form below me, her slowly rising and falling chest, her blonde hair which was at last free of its constricting braid, her soft lips. Every feature of her was so much to take in.

'John,' she said through her heavy breaths and her hand gently touched my cheek, 'are you just going to stare at me all night?'

'No,' I answered and kissed her softly on her forehead as my hands reached down to the bottom of her chemise and I looked her in the eye.

When she nervously smiled and nodded I pulled it up over her head in one swift motion. Both of us were blushing and Sunniva moved to cover her chest with her forearm but I stopped her. For a single moment which felt like an eternity we didn't move an inch but looked at each other instead.

'You are beautiful,' I told her. 'You don't need to hide anything.'

'Neither do you,' she said and smirked before moving her hands down to the waistband of my trousers.

I helped her push them down and then I kicked them over the side of the bed. We kissed one last time, wrapping our arms around each other before we at last joined together. Sunniva gasped and tightened her grip around me, quivering slightly. I broke our kiss and looked at her worriedly.

'Are you alright?' I asked her.

'Yes,' she answered and moved her head back so it was resting on the pillows. 'I've never been so alright in my life.'

Safe with that knowledge we kissed again and we became one at long last.

 **AN: *Blushes nervously and looks around* Alright that was that. For note, I based Sunniva's wedding dress on what Anglo-Saxons would have worn.**

 **Now, we are at the end of the second act of this story and the third and final act will begin with the next chapter. I want you to know that there will be a time jump of some years after this one. Also, I will be updating "The First Stranger" soon.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **: Good, to be precise I was referencing the fact that James was one of the guys in charge at the Tower around the time when the Princes in the Tower vanished.**

 **KiyaNamiel: I assumed that Gondor and Rohan relied on a feudal system of rule for a few reasons.**

 **A-at many times in the books Tolkien mentioned that the soldiers at Gondor were not all the standard Gondorian soldier in the films, such as the Axemen of Lossanarch who had their own fighting style and the Knights of Dol Amroth led by Imrahil.**

 **B-It makes sense given that this Gondor and Rohan or both societies where keeping a massive standing army was difficult so they would have to have a small regular army backed up by levies from the various lordships. This is doubled in Rohan which is basically Anglo-Saxon England, even down to certain words, architecture and armour looks, where the Huscarls were the regular fighting force and they were backed up the Fyrd, locally raised soldiers.**

 **C-I wanted to show the English having an influence of the culture of Middle Earth and having them wear the armour of a 15** **th** **century man at arms made sense.**

 **ATP: I'm not an expert on ecumenical matters either but I think you are correct on Orthodox beliefs.**


	31. Chapter 30 Clouds coming in

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty

Clouds Coming In

For fifteen years there was a beautiful thing in Gondor. It was a simple beautiful thing which it had not known for years. Peace. Of course there were small skirmishes and engagements in the south but nothing on the scale of a full scale war. Of course, Middle Earth took advantage of that time of peace and in some ways it changed greatly. A good place to begin would be the armies of the world. During the War of the Ring Gondor and her allies had built up massive military forces to fight against Sauron. Many of those same countries lowered their numbers, preferring to keep smaller, better trained and equipped armies. For a start the average soldiers started to wear heavier armour and they no longer wore the helmets with T shaped visors, they were replaced by sallet helmets which offered better protection. The Fire Hands grew in numbers to a total of three thousand men and fifteen Heavy Cannons, as well as numerous smaller artillery pieces.

The next most important change, in some peoples view, was the growth of the church. Arch Bishop Harold proved to be talented at recruiting priests and especially missionaries. He organised the setting up of Christian Missions in Bree Country, Dale and all over Rohan and Gondor. The largest group of converts was in Minas Tirith where just over a thousand Christians lived all year round. There were dozens in Rohan and hundreds in other parts of Gondor. In the end the faith proved to be growing faster than anyone thought, eventually Harold had to expand Saint Mary's church for all the extra people or else he would have to preach outside, but there were a few problems along the way. There were a few small incidents of violence now and again but the local law enforcement was able to stop anything too bad from happening. As the religion entered the army many commoner soldiers wished to become soldiers for God and eventually His Majesty agreed to let us form Christian Companies of men. They dressed differently from the rest of the army in that they wore breastplates with a cross instead of a white tree and that was the same for their shields. The Order grew in size as well and eventually we had a force of three hundred cavalry and six hundred Knights of Foot. We were much younger than the Knights of Dol Amroth but we were well respected enough to almost be considered their equals. In the end a rivalry developed between us at tournaments and on the battlefields but that's off topic.

My uncle, who eventually received the title of Lord in reward for his years of service to Gondor, decided to step down as leader of the Order on his eighty-fifth birthday, saying that he wished to lead a quiet life at his castle. I understand his desire for peace and quiet, every day dealing with correspondence and black powder, combined with years of fighting and his terrible injury, served to make him a tired man. Spending his days organising farm work and taxes was much simpler by comparison but every time I saw him I still saw that his eyes were full of life. He also wrote extensively on military tactics and English History. One of his books, _The Tactics and skills of the warrior,_ which details nearly every aspect of warfare, often drawing upon his own experiences during the wars in England and Middle Earth, is now required reading for Gondor's officers. Robert took his place as leader after all members of the Order held an election for it.

I will not go into details over how the leaders of the realm became married. You all know of the weddings between Lady Eowyn and Faramir (about bloody time, Rickard once said to me) and Prince Imrahil's daughter, Lothiriel and King Eomer. The alliances between the realms had never been stronger. I think that a greater interest to you would be the family dynamics of myself, my cousins and friends. Markus and Hethnina had two girls, named Ruth and Martha, and a boy named Nathaniel, he was their first child. Rickard, he went on to marry Lady Calwel, the young woman we helped save from the Avari. We were all surprised by his choice but my uncle was happy for them. They had a twin boy and girl named Luke and Eve just over a year after their marriage. Sunniva and I, well, after three years of trying to have a child we almost gave up when my wife told me the fantastic news. Less than a year later my eldest son, Daniel, was born. After that our children came about quickly, in the end after fifteen years we had four altogether until Sunniva threatened to kill me if I ever put her through delivery ever again, granted she said that while giving birth to our fifth but I didn't want to risk it. Our children, a boy, two girls, and then another boy, in that order were named Daniel, Sunngif (after Sunniva's mother), Anne and Richard. Yes, during those fifteen years we had peace.

We should have known it would not last.

The air was thick with smoke. The small fishing village, which sat around a small but prosperous branch of the River Erui, was in ruins. The bodies of the local militia were strewn about the ground, their spears broken and their swords bloodied. Their shields were scarred and broken, the coat of arms of the Harris family covered in blood. The bodies of children were laying in corners and women, their dresses torn into rags, were slaughtered but their eyes still open. This is the scene my uncle saw as he and fifty of his knights rode through the smoking ruin. He wore his armour and his short sword was at his side but he hoped he would not have to use it. Even with one arm my uncle could still fight with a short sword. His face was aged greatly by wrinkles and he now had a neat beard in the normal style of a Gondorian noble. Riding next to him was Markus, visiting his father, who also wore his armour and was ready for battle. Just behind the two of them was fourteen year old Nathaniel who was the image of his father. On foot a hundred and fifty of his men at arms rushed to check the burning buildings for survivors. With his eyes full of anger my uncle looked at the bodies and remembered all the terrible sights he had seen in the wars.

'Someone will pay for this!' he shouted in a venom fuelled voice.

'Of course they will,' Markus assured him.

'Lord James,' said Sir Gofder, my uncles second in command, 'as he rushed to his leader holding a coin. 'Lord James, look at this.'

He handed his liege lord a single coin he had found on the ground. After taking a glance at it my uncle knew what it meant.

'Umbar,' he growled. 'Look for any Umbaran weapons, coins or armour. We'll need them if the His Majesty's going to allow us vengeance.'

'My Lord, how could the Corsairs have reached this far inland?'

'The Vikings of my old world could strike anywhere as long as it was a stone's throw from water,' he replied and looked towards the river not far away. 'They must have come up river in small boats at night and hid during the day. Gofder, take half the knights and go up river to alert every village a day's travel from here. Markus, take the rest and go down river until you reach Pelagir. When you get there tell Lord Corinir that he needs to learn how to do his duty.'

'With pleasure father,' he answered before looking at Nathaniel. 'Son, stay with grandfather.'

'Of course,' he said eagerly.

'If you find the Corsairs,' my uncle told Markus and Gofder, 'bring them in alive. I need prisoners.'

After a few hours my uncle felt little relief at returning home to Harris Castle. It was in some ways a brilliant recreation of his old castle but in other ways it was an improved version. It was made up of a tall strong tower which held the armoury, the chapel, my uncles chambers and rooms for any guests. That tower was connected to other walls topped by strong battlements and at each corner was a small tower for archers and crossbowmen. Inside the courtyard was a large hall connected to the base of the main tower where the feasts and all important events were held. There were also barracks for the castles garrison next to the hall, stables on the opposite side of the courtyard, a training ground for the soldiers and beneath the main tower were the kitchens and below them the cells. Surrounding the walls was a dry moat filled with spikes but a bridge went over it on the south side connecting to the gates. Right next to Harris Castle, below the south wall, was a large town called Daladparth which had grown rapidly since my uncle had been made lord of those lands. Most of the people there were farmers of the nearby fields but there were also merchants who made a good living there. In the newer parts of the town was a small church and a Chapter House of the English Knights which organised the collection of grain from the fields owned by the Order.

My uncle rode through the town followed by his men at arms. As they rode on many of the townsfolk bowed to him out of respect and my uncle his concern and returned their kindness with curt nods and smiles. Eventually he crossed the bridge and entered his castle. Quickly he dismounted his horse and walked briskly to the main tower where he waited for news.

...

To say that Minas Tirith was a changed place would be an understatement. Since the end of the war the city's population had grown, the buildings stood taller and more wealth was flowing through the cities merchants. I was standing at the edge of the training ground of the Order's headquarters in Minas Tirith watching fifteen young Squires training with wooden practice swords. Our methods of training were different from those we had in England. For a start the training system my uncle had designed before he stood down was focused on becoming more regimented so we could work together at a unit more efficiently. The Squires, who were from noble families who wanted their sons to join the Order, started training with wooden swords when they were ten, at twelve they could start to use training weapons of their choice such as poleaxe's or maces, at fifteen they started to use steel weapons and then at eighteen they were knighted. Those who could afford horses were trained as cavalrymen while the rest were trained to fight as heavy infantry. They all had to buy their own weapons and armour as well and a few would leave after just a year of training. The training was a long series of weapons practice, riding practice, physical training and survival lessons which would involve Squires travelling in Ithilien for months alone. One aspect of training which was given a great amount of emphasis was educational study. Tutors would teach them history, biblical lectures, writing, reading, mathematics, war studies and the virtues of what it means to be a Knight.

I smiled as I watched my eldest son sparring with another Squire. Daniel was showing a lot of promise as a warrior. He was tall for his age but still a bit too thin. He had a similar face to mine as well as my eyes but his mother's dark blonde hair and a similar attitude. He, and all the Squires around him, wore simple leather jerkins and padded shirts to soften the blows of the wooden blades. My son swung his sword at his opponent who stepped back and took advantage of Daniel swinging his weapon too far. The other Squire brought his sword into the side of Daniels head and my son fell over.

'Halt!' shouted Mathew, who had been instructing the class, and he quickly walked over to my son who was nursing the cut on the side of his head.

I hurried over to him as well and knelt down to his level.

'Are you alright son?' I asked him.

'Yes father,' he answered but winced when I touched the wound.

'It will leave a bruise,' I said and looked at Mathew. 'Can you deal with that other one?'

'I was about to,' he said and walked to the other Squire and reminded him to not try to injure his sparring partners.

'Is it bad?' Daniel asked me.

'I've seen worse,' I told him and gave him a reassuring smile. 'Can you keep going?'

'Yes,' he answered quickly, sounding worried that he couldn't go on.

'Are you sure?' I said sternly.

'Yes,' he repeated.

'Alright,' I said and picked up his wooden sword which I handed to him. 'Never leave yourself exposed like that. If you miss you have to bring your sword back into a guard. Do you understand?'

'I know father I know.'

'Then remember it,' I said before standing up and patting him on the shoulder before their fight resumed.

This time Daniel attacked quickly, rapidly jabbing at his opponent who was quickly parrying the attacks. Then my son swung in a wide arc and I rolled my eyes, thinking he had ignored my advice. His opponent swung at Daniels torso but, to my surprise and delight, Daniel was back in a guard again and parried the blow before swinging his sword down and striking his opponent on the shoulder. I clapped my hands loudly at my son's victory and Daniel smiled happily at my approval.

...

'But he hit me,' Daniel said as we walked back home.

'When you're training you'll always get hit but don't worry about that. If that was a battle your helmet would stop the blow and the worst you'll get is a headache.'

'I made mistakes.'

'The best thing to do is make mistakes now,' I told him, reciting the words my uncle told me. 'Make them now and you will not make them in a battle.'

'Father, why do you never make mistakes?' he asked very nervously.

When he asked me that we were walking down a wide street, on either side it was packed with men selling their goods but a few visitors to the city were looking at a statue put up in the middle of the road just the year before. The stature was twice the size of a man and stood on a man sized plinth with the name on it written in mithril. The statue showed a man in full plate armour with a sweeping cloak hanging from his shoulders and in his hands he held a massive sword with the tip planted into the ground. The look on his face was one of brilliant stoicism and strength. I looked at the name and pointed at the statue.

LORD JAMES HARRIS

HERO OF OUR COUNTRY

'Because of that that man. He made sure I was so I wouldn't make mistakes.'

My son looked at the statue with almost awe, something which I noticed was common amongst his age, especially the Squires of the Order. The generation which had been born after the war many of those great heroes, Elessar, Theoden, Denethor and James Harris, had become the subjects of many tales told in the inns and taverns across Middle Earth and it seemed as if they got wilder with each retelling to the point of my uncle killing five Trolls before losing his arm. Granted he was a talented warrior but that was a little ridiculous.

...

'We're home,' I announced as I and Daniel walked back into my house.

After Sunniva became pregnant with our third we decided that we needed more room for our family so we bought a larger house in the city with more rooms, although our daughters had to share one. The house was in the same level as our old home but unlike that small place our new home had two floors, our bedrooms, washroom and my study on the upper floor and everything else on the lower floor. We walked through the front door and into living room where I saw Sungif and Anne sitting in chairs by the fireplace practicing their stitching with Sunniva. George and Richard were sitting on the rug in front of the fire playing with toy knights. As soon as Sunniva looked up at me she smiled. Over the years her hair had become slightly curlier and at the corners of her eyes I could see the smallest of lines. However, her smile vanished when she saw the bruise at the side of Daniel's head.

'What happened this time?' she asked as she walked up to her son.

'His opponent got carried away,' I answered as she took a close look at the bruise. 'Sunniva, the healers had a look at him. He's fine.'

'So?' she asked as she continued her inspection.

'You don't need to worry every time he has a bruise.'

'I'm his mother. It's my job to worry.'

When she was satisfied that Daniel was fine she kissed him on the forehead and told him to go and change for dinner. I hung my cloak up on the peg by the door, pulled a book from the nearby shelf and started reading as I always did after I watched my eldest son training.

'I got a letter from Cenric today,' Sunniva told me.

'How is he?' I asked.

'Couldn't be better. He's been made a Captain in the Royal Guard.'

'Brilliant,' I said and smiled at my wife.

Unfortunately Sunniva and I had not seen much of her brother but he wrote very often and he was becoming a skilled warrior. The last time I had seen him was when a missionary had been taken hostage by Wildmen and a group from the Order, led by me, went to rescue him. Cenric had been part of a force sent by King Eomer to help us.

'Brilliant I know. He's a good soldier.'

'I've never seen a man use an axe as well as him. He deserves to be made a captain.'

'I still say he should join the Order.'

'Arch Bishop Harold ordered that the only people who can be Christians are those who agree to it. He's very strict on that.'

'If he wasn't we'd just be seen as a death cult.'

'True, true.'

 **AN: Well here's the latest chapter in the story. This was mostly just setting up the next story arc. So, what do you think about how Gondor has changed. What do you think of the changes I made to Gondor here?**

 **Also, I want to show you what my dream cast for my main OC's would be, even if the actors I mention are dead or not:**

 **John Harris: Kit Harington.**

 **Markus Harris: Finn Wittrock**

 **Rickard Harris: Daniel Rigby**

 **James Harris: Sir Michael Cain**

 **Bartholomew Harris (old): Michael Gambon**

 **Bartholomew Harris (young): Ryan Gosling**

 **Sunniva: Amanda Seyfried**

 **Father Harold: Arnold Ridley (cool trivia, he is Daisy Ridley's Great Uncle)**

 **Robert of Essex: Steve Carell**

 **Edmund: Jonathan Frakes**

 **Jason Bridge: Jack Hawkins**

 **What do you think? Agree? Disagree?**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I love writing Rickard. He's a bit of a fool but his humour isn't just based on stepping in poodoo and breaking suspension of disbelief. To be honest out of the characters I've written I'm most like Rickard.**

 **ATP: All the ships and all of that stuff will be explained in the next few chapters. Thanks for reviewing.**


	32. Chapter 31 The Storm Grows

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **AN: So, erm, what the Hell happened in my life since the last update? Well, here it is on one breath. Movedhousenearlyelbowedatowncouncillortalkedbrieflywithonebishopwenttoachurcholderthanenglandgotillfromtoomuchhotchocolateafterafootballmatchandhadtomissoutonawesomepizzaandthoselasttwowereonthesamenightandthatsallletsmoveontothestory.**

Chapter Thirty One

The Storm Grows

Late in the night I kissed Sunniva again. Her arms were wrapped around my neck as I held her as close as possible to me. Our room was warm from the fire in the hearth and the shutters blocking out the night were closed. As I broke the kiss I moved off of my wife and breathed to get my breath back. Sunniva, holding the sheet up to her chest, looked over at me puzzled.

'What's wrong with you today?'

'Nothing,' I assured her.

'John, you know you can't lie to me.'

'Alright Sunniva. It's my uncle coming back.'

'I was looking forward to seeing him again. I've not seen little Daniel so excited in ages.'

I chuckled at that. Daniel was always excited at meeting grandfather. Sunniva and I had told our children to call my uncle grandfather because I felt he deserved that title.

'I want to see him again I know but he's not coming here for fun.'

'The attack,' Sunniva said, down heartened.

'Yes.'

Since news of the attack on my uncle's village had reached Minas Tirith tension had filled the air with the force of lightning. In the years since the war my uncles flaws had shown themselves stronger than before. In England he had spent most of his life fighting either for or against rival houses vying for the throne. Now he, more than most of us, had to adapt to living in a land of peace and stability united behind one king. His problems had been shown most clearly in his willingness to use force more than many of the other lords in Gondor.

'My uncle wants war against Umbar.'

My uncle sat on his horse as he, Markus, Nathaniel, Hethnina and ten of my uncles knights in their armour road towards the New Quarter of Osgiliath. The newly built area of Osgiliath, for those of you who have not seen it, was a symbolic expansion of that ancient city. It was built entirely on the east side of the city and half of it, the far eastern side, had no buildings in it. It was open countryside surrounded by newly built walls. The walls of the New Quarter were perhaps the strongest part of the city as they were built with three layers of defences. First there was a moat sixty feet across and thirty feet deep fed by the River Anduin. Two draw bridges went over the moat on the north and south areas of the moat as well a permanent stone bridge in the centre. Right next to the moat was a wall twenty feet high topped with a rampart and gatehouses over the bridges. Ninety towers increased the protection offered already by the moat and walls. After the first walls was a killing ground of fifty feet and then another set of walls fifty feet high, topped with ramparts, one hundred towers, portcullis's and, over the three gates into the city itself, cannon towers. The addition was part of the Fortress Plan, designed to make Gondor unassailable, was a massive piece of engineering. Every ford along the Anduin had strong forts on it, the border to the south was defended by dozens of forts manned by local militias and the same was for the coast line. My uncle and his party crossed the stone bridge and were warmly welcomed by the heavily armoured City Watchmen who stood on guard there. After that they rode into the main part of the New Quarter where they were greeted by busy half built streets covered by busy workmen. Soon those buildings and their wide new streets would be homes and shops. However, towering over the new buildings was one in particular which has become the symbol of pride for Christianity in Gondor. The Cathedral of Saint Michael was built to be the heart of Christianity in the new world. Its towering spire, which at the time was only half built, would one day look down on the city below. Surrounding the cathedral was a large garden planted with trees and around the garden was a low wall with an iron gate topped by a stone arch. On top of the arch stood a larger than life statue of Saint Michael wearing Gondorian armour and held a spear high. Arviol, the Bishop of Osgiliath, stood by the gate talking with some architects as my uncles party rode past.

'Greetings Bishop,' my uncle loudly said to him. 'How goes the work?'

'Lord Harris,' he answered and smiled. 'The work goes well. We should be finished this time next year.'

'Excellent,' my uncle responded and rode on.

As he rode through the streets of Osgiliath he was happy to see how far the city had come. All of the rubble and ruins were gone, old buildings had been repaired or rebuilt completely and the population was quickly growing. He crossed one of the large bridges of the city across the Anduin, at each end of the bridge was a fortified tower with a portcullis, battlements and arrow slits. His Majesty had declared that Osgiliath would never again fall to an invader. Later, when they crossed Pelannor my uncle stopped a distance from the walls of Minas Tirith at a large area surrounded by a low wooden fence. In the centre of it was the stone cross which marked the burial of the Christian dead during the Siege of Minas Tirith. Other grave stones surrounded it and my uncle, with the help of Markus, climbed off of his horse and walked into the cemetery. It didn't take him long to find the two graves he was looking for. Solemnly he read the writing on the first grave.

Sir Jason Bridge  
Born in England on October 4th 1434 in the glory of God  
Welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven January 11th FA 4 aged 54  
Died from his wounds defending the people of Gondor from Orc raiders

My uncle shook his head in sadness and gently touched the top of the grave. He then walked on a while longer along the small line of graves until he reached the second. This grave was slightly larger with a longer inscription on it.

Sir Robert Woolman of Essex  
Born in Colchester, England, on February 3rd 1422 in the Glory of God  
Welcomed  
Battled against the Saracens in the Balkans, served in the armies of the House of York, led the Order of English Knights at the Battle of Pelannor Fields, the Battle of Bain Bloss and the Southern Campaigns.  
Died peacefully in his bed July 18th FA 9 aged 74

'Oh old friend,' he said to the grave and slowly walked back to his horse.

'Are you alright father?' Markus asked him as he helped him back onto the horse.

'It seems odd. I'm older than both of those men but I'm still here while they've gone.'

'We are the Harris family. We've always had long lives.'

'Something my own father forgot.'

'I think I remember Gimli telling me that by the end his memory was failing him.'

'Yes. I hope I don't suffer from that.'

'I see. Let's get going to the city. I can't wait to see Rickard and John again.'

'Neither can I Markus. Let's go.'

...

I walked with Sunniva and our children to our place in the courtyard of the Citadel. The area was crowded with a small group of nobles, Lord Faramir with Eowyn and at the head of the group was His Majesty the King with his queen. Standing to the right of the king were ten of the Citadel Guard and to his left ten English Knights in full plate. Behind the nobles were two companies of Gondorian soldiers. I led my family over to join the other nobles and came next to Rickard and his family, as well as Markus' daughters.

'Cousin,' I said to him and we embraced for a brief moment. 'Glad to see you managed to pull yourself up the steps to here.'

At that he boomed and laughed at my comment. In the passing years he had put on a little too much weight but I knew he was still a formidable foe to face. I have scars which can prove that.

'I'm just glad you remembered that he was coming today.'

'It's a shame Edmund couldn't make it though.'

'Yes. Where is he again?'

'Halfway back from Bree I think. Wasn't he trying to find a goldmine?'

'Damned if I know what Edmund's up to.'

Just then a runner hurried up into the courtyard and announced that my uncle was almost here. At that everyone was silenced and then, from the ramp leading to the courtyard, my uncle appeared on his horse. Of course I was glad to see him again and he was looking fine for a man his age. He rode past us all, nodding and smiling at Rickard and me, before dismounting in front of his king. A second later he bowed on his knee and lowered his head.

'Your Majesty, it is an honour to return to your city.'

'You have been badly missed here Lord Harris. Rise my friend. You need not bow to me.'

Slowly my uncle rose to his feet and shook the kings hand.

'Thank you for your welcome Your Majesty but my journey here is not for a kind reason.'

'I know. This attack does not bring good tidings to us.'

'When your letter reached us we were all pained by their suffering,' Arwen added.

'Yes. My men are ready for action as soon as you give us the word.'

At that Aragorn shifted ever so slightly uncomfortably before glancing at his wife and continuing the talk with my uncle.

'True. Still, you must be tired from your journey. Rooms have been prepared for you and there will be a feast tonight.'

'After all this time on the road a real bed and good food will be welcome.'

 **AN: Well I hope you liked this chapter and I'll try to get the next one out faster. Also, the building of Saint Michaels Cathedral in this looks like Saint Nicholas's Cathedral in Newcastle except with a taller tower.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: Most observant points about what's south. Soon what happens next will be revealed.**

 **KiyaNamiel: Well I also thought of George C Scott for James for a while. It looks like everyone who I would love to be James was Scrooge at one point. huh. Thanks for your review and I am flattered by your comments about the last one possibly being the last chapter. Thanks for your review.**


	33. Chapter 32 The Storm Breaks

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Two

The Storm Breaks

That evening the main dining hall of the citadel, which was directly behind the throne room, was filled with music and the smell of fine foods and wines. Great tables went along the length of the room and they were all crowded by almost every noble of any standing in Minas Tirith. At the head table sat the king with his queen. Next to him were Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn as well as their son Elboron. My uncle sat there as well with Arch Bishop Harold. He walked with a cane at that time and his eyes had started to slowly turn gray. Not far along the high table was Lord Cyllcoth. I sat with my cousins and our wives, we had decided to leave our children at home that night, on one of the lower tables as we ate our food.

'For some reason Nathaniel's been obsessed with these new Nind swords,' Markus told me and Rickard.

'I don't see how they can get through armour,' I said to him. 'Those damn weapons are far too thin. They'll just break.'

'Coming from the man with the blessed sword,' Sunniva reminded me.

'I can't think of a man in Gondor who wouldn't want to use Alaric in battle,' said Rickard before starting on a leg of chicken.

'I'd like to see them try to take it,' I said to the amusement of all nearby.

I then patted my sword as ever at my side. In the years since its powers first appeared Alaric had defeated many foes saving my life many times.

'Apparently Edmund has raised a company of cavalry armed with Nind blades,' said Rickard.

'Where did you hear this dear?' asked Calwel.

'From Mathew. The two of them like to stay in touch.'

'Aside from the raid how's your fathers lands?' I asked Markus.

'Couldn't be better. My father's organised everything with the same skill he did when he commanded soldiers.'

'In that case his people couldn't be in better hands,' said Hethnina.

Up on the high table my uncle spoke quietly with the king.

'Your Majesty, we must strike quickly. If we attack Umbar soon we can deal with the last real threat to this kingdom.'

'James, I know you mean well my friend but we have no proof the leaders of Umbar planned this. It could have been just a few rogue corsairs and I will not break our treaty with them over the actions of a few,' he told my uncle but then added apologetically, 'If am truly sorry but until we find proof the Duumivirs of the city planned this I cannot start a war.'

'Good sense Your Majesty,' said Lord Cyllcoth who had been listening before taking a sip of wine. 'We must protect the prosperity of this kingdom.'

'As you proved when you suggested fleeing the city when Mordor was coming,' my uncle reminded him and managed to suppress a grin.

'If the two of you cannot last a single meal without endlessly bickering like children I'll ask you both to leave,' Arwen told them sternly.

'I'll talk about a response in the morning,' Aragorn said to them. 'Until then let us enjoy the feast.'

...

There were some powers supposed to be known to only a few. Often when certain pieces of knowledge become known they become deformed into something ugly and brutal. As was the case with an artefact of great power. In the heart of Umbar was a great palace, formally home to the two men who governed the city. Now though those two men were but puppet rulers to their true master. In a circular chamber beneath the palace, with two elite Avari bodyguards standing straight with halberds in hand, a figure hidden beneath shadow and a dark robe, stood over a basin made of dark metal. From its hand the figure poured water into the dark imitation of the Mirror of Galadriel, discovered through years of searching, and looked across worlds into the far past. Its ancient eyes witnessed a battle where two knights, one using a great sword and the other a poleaxe, fought back to back against other knights. Suddenly the knight with the poleaxe was stabbed through the neck and blood rushed out of the wound across his breast plate. The other knight turned and killed the one who struck the blow.

'Daniel!' he shouted.

The image then changed to centuries earlier. There was a city in an arid plane by many hills under siege. A group of men in a siege tower were getting ready to leap onto the wall. One was wearing mail and a conical helmet and his shield held the image of a cross before a tree. One of the men leapt from the tower onto the wall and fought against men resembling the Haradrim. The man with the tree shield jumped onto the wall.

'Take care Duke Godfrey!' he shouted in another language.

Again the image shifted to centuries later, years after the first image. There was a small gate of a castle by a river. A boat sat by the gate with packs of food already in it. Suddenly the gate opened and a small group of cloaked men, two boys and a woman walked out of it. One of the men, slightly short, told the boys to get into the boat with three men wearing mail.

'May God bless you Sir James,' the woman said to him.

'My Lady, know that I do this reluctantly. I serve the king and his house and these boys are from that house if they are legitimate or not. They must hurry. Say farewell to your sons before they leave for France.'

'Are you sure they will be safe there?'

'Yes. My cousins men will be waiting for them,' just then a noise was heard above them on the battlements. 'Make haste or all our heads will be on pikes.'

At that my uncle walked away to make sure the two serving boys had taken the princes places as Elizabeth Woodville said farewell to her sons for the last time.

The figure stepped away from the Dark Mirror and thought on this before looking back at the mirror, now using it to communicate. An image appeared of a dark skinned man hiding in a dark room.

'Are you prepared to strike?'

'My knife is sharpened Shadowed One.'

'Good. Strike tonight as the King sleeps.'

'It will be done.'

...

Hours after the feast was over and most had gone home, and the king and queen had retired to the royal apartments, I was still the Citadel speaking with some courtiers who wanted their sons to join the Order.

'I'm sure I can persuade Grand Master Gregory to allow your sons to join our Order,' I told them. 'Now, if that's all I think we all need to get some sleep.'

The guards before me all agreed and I stood up, my hand brushing against Alaric, and then I felt it. A warm feeling spread through my hand and up my arm. Alarmed I drew my sword a small amount and my breath caught in my throat. A slight orange light was flickering up the blade. The others in the room with me saw it and they had heard of my swords powers.

'Sound the alarm!' I shouted and drew Alaric fully before running out of the room.

Soon I ran into ten guards who heard my shouting.

'Sir John what's going on?' one asked me and then saw my sword. 'Good Lord.'

'There's an intruder somewhere! Tell the other guards to search the Citadel. I'm going to check on His Majesty. You two,' I said to a pair of them, 'come with me.'

'Yes sir,' they responded and drew their swords.

They followed me as I rushed up a long flight of stairs towards the uppermost floors where the royal apartments were. As we ran I saw the blades flickering growing stronger with each step we took making us go even faster. Eventually we reached the correct floor and without stopping for breath we raced to the right room to find the door ajar. I kicked the door the rest of the way open to see a spacious room with couches, chairs, a large dinner table and, at the far end of the room and by a large set of windows was the bed were the sleeping forms of the king and queen resided. Standing right next to them, holding a knife glinting in the moon light, was a darkly dressed man.

'Aragorn!' I shouted and suddenly the two royals woke up.

Reacting quickly the assassin lunged down at the king who, with incredible reflexes, grabbed his attacker by the throat and threw a heavy punch into the assasins face shattering his nose. Just afterwards Arwen slashed her hand across the assassins face leaving three deep bloody scratches across his face. The assassin fell backwards and rushed away towards the windows but I rushed over to him and swung Alaric down at him. He caught the glowing blade with his knife but a second later it shattered. Aragorn leapt at the assassin and punched him twice in the face and together we were able to hold him down. I placed the tip of Alaric at his throat and at last allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief.

'Thank you John,' Aragorn said to me.

'Just my duty sire,' I responded as the alarm bells outside started to ring.

'Tell them to stop ringing,' Arwen told one of the guards.

'Yes Your Highness,' he responded and bowed before leaving.

'Now then, just who are you?' I growled at the killer and pressed the tip of Alaric into his neck almost to the point of piercing his skin. 'Are you from Umbar? Tell me!'

'Die infidel!' he hissed through the blood in his mouth.

'John, calm yourself,' Aragorn told me. 'We'll deal with him later.'

'What did you call me?' I asked the killer suddenly shocked. It was impossible. What he called me was impossible.

'Infidel!' he spat.

'Do you know who he is John?'

'Saracen,' I said and tightened the grip on my sword, ready to drive it forwards at the first order.

 **AN:**

 **Okay, before the SJW's start let me give some context. The Harris family is established to be from a family with a long history of crusading, and his grandfather had fought around Baltic with the Teutonic Knights. On top of that, his father and James grew up during the time when Constantinople fell so it makes sense for John to act like he does when he encounters the Muslim assassin. By that point Christians and Muslims had been fighting each other for centuries so how did you think John would react to finding one in Middle Eath who just tried to kill his king. Know that I have nothing against Islam and I have friends from that faith.**

 **Now that's out of the way, what do you think? Who is this new enemy? Are they facing an OC or a Tolkien created character?**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **ATP:**

 **Well the Avari are back! So, what do you think of this then? I'll think about your suggestions by the way.**

 **KiyaNamiel:**

 **Thanks for your review. For the record that was the abridged version of what I did. I left out the Original Trilogy marathon and the hot chocolate made me ill. Also, I will not kill you for that quote as I do like the films and book (except for the Battle of the CGI Armies).**

 **So once again, please review, give me your thoughts and**


	34. Chapter 33 The Calamity Unfolds

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Three

The Calamity Unfolds

'This is a disaster,' declared Arch Bishop Harold before the large council assembled around the large round table in the throne room. His age did not hide the determination in his eyes as he spoke. 'Not only has Umbar attacked our lands but now they tried to kill our king! Not only did this thug try to kill you Your Majesty but he is a Saracen. He is of the blood enemy of Christendom. Your Majesty, if there are more of them in Umbar war may be inevitable. Our history has shown them to be a savage and brutal people. We must strike now,' he then gazed with his greying eyes across the table at the gathered nobles and lords as well as the King of Gondor. He raised his arms and loudly declared, 'God wills it!'

After this there was much murmuring amongst all those gathered there. I stood behind my uncle with Rickard while Markus had a seat. Gregory of Cumbria, a respected knight and leader of the English Knights, sat next to my uncle as well. Altogether every important nobleman in the city was there.

'Arch Bishop,' Aragorn said to Harold, 'as long as I have known you, your message of faith has been one of peace before war. Now you want war at once. Why?'

'Your Majesty,' my uncle said to him, 'you must understand that Saracens are the oldest enemy of Christ. They captured Jerusalem, they tortured the people there and stopped Pilgrims from worshiping at the holiest of sights. They conquered Iberia, sacked Rome and took Constantinople. I remember the day word reached us of Constantinople's fate. To us, the Saracens are no different from Orcs.'

'Here, here,' said Gregory and stood up, his scarlet cloak sweeping behind him. 'We must fight! Arch Bishop, you have the power of the Pope here. Declare a Crusade against Umbar so we can end this threat once and for all!'

'What is a crusade?' asked Lord Cyllcoth.

'A war fought in the name of God,' my uncle told him.

'Just for once Lord Harris could you not let your religion decide everything in your life?'

'It didn't decide me throwing you into a cell.'

'Enough!' Aragorn shouted. 'Enough. The assassin is waiting to be brought in for questioning.'

At that a guard rushed into one of the side chambers and ten guards soon walked out of it escorting the assassin. He had heavy manacles around his hands and his feet were chained together allowing him to walk but not run. He was brought before the table and each of us looked at him with contempt. The assassin glared angrily at everyone who he was now the prisoner of.

'Who sent you here?' asked Faramir.

'I do not answer to you,' he spat.

'Then answer to me,' Gregory said to him plainly. 'How many of your kind are in Middle Earth? Should we be afraid?'

'More afraid than you know infidel!'

'So there are many of you,' he said. 'How long have you been here?'

'Nearly twenty years. We came through and were lost in the sands south of here. If we had known then that you were serving Gondor we would have marched to join the armies of Harad to crush you.'

'And if we had known you were here we would have come south to crush you,' my uncle growled at him.

'Did you come here from Umbar?' Lord Cyllcoth shouted at him.

At that he was silent for a moment and moved his head oddly before answering.

'Yes. The leaders of Umbar commanded me to kill your king,' he said and then smiled. 'And I almost did it.'

'Why have you given your loyalty to Umbar?' asked Aragorn.

'The leaders of Umbar have allowed my people to live in their lands. We owe them everything.'

'Over fifteen years ago,' I said loudly, 'one of the Avari went on a killing spree in this city with the eventual goal of killing the queen. Did he come from Umbar as well?'

'Yes,' he answered and smiled. 'He failed to kill your whore of wife John Harris.'

Suddenly enraged I drew my sword and I was about to charge around the table when Rickard and Markus restrained me.

'How did you know my nephews name?' my uncle yelled.

'My master knows all, Lord Harris,' he told him.

'Get rid of him!' Aragorn shouted and the guards dragged the Saracen out. 'Throw him into a cell.'

As they dragged the assassin away everyone in the council silently looked at each other for a few moments. Eventually the king broke this silence.

'And now this conspiracy has been exposed. Umbar will likely believe I am dead and the realm in chaos. The main attack of the enemy will come about soon and I will not let them reach Gondor. We will send a message to Lord Corinir to send out the entire fleet to patrol the coast for Corsair ships. We know the Saracen was from Umbnar and this, combined with the attack on the lands of Lord Harris, means that we may be facing an imminent war. At the end of the War of the Ring we made a treaty with Umbar ending their raiding and conflict with us. They have broken the treaty. It is time for a change of leadership in that city. Prepare the army, draft every able bodied levy and light the beacons. The time has come for Gondor and Rohan to fight together once again.'

At this many of the assembled lords stood up and cheered at our kings declaration. I admit I did so as well. Now was a chance for glory once again. However, at that moment a young man rushed in clearly alarmed.

'Sire!' he shouted to the king. 'Sire. A carrier bird just reached us from Harondor. It was carrying this.'

He then walked up to the king, bowed and passed him a small piece of parchment. As he read it I saw Aragorn's face turn white. After the War of the Ring Gondor was able to retake control of its foreign territory. The towns there were being rebuilt and a few new colonies were developing.

'The border forts along the River Harnen have been attacked,' Aragorn announced to us to many gasps and looks of surprise. 'An army of Haradrim have crossed the river and have left many of the forts under siege. The main army is advancing along the Harad Road.'

'How large is the enemy force?' asked Gregory.

'Twenty thousand,' he answered and before all of the gathered nobles began shouting he decided on a plan. 'We cannot let the Haradrim pass the Poros. Lord Harris, I understand your men are ready to march at a moment's notice.'

'That's true Your Majesty. If they march to Pelargir they can cross the Anduin and reach the crossings on foot.'

'How many men do have at arms?'

'About six hundred spearmen, four hundred swordsmen, four hundred archers but only eighty cavalry.'

'I have a hundred and twenty mounted knights in Minas Tirith,' said Gregory. 'They can join Lord Harris.'

'Excellent,' said Aragorn. 'It will take a week to assemble enough men to defend against the Haradrim host but just over two thousand men can defend the Poros from their vanguard. Lord Harris, that falls to you. Leave in the morning.'

'I will sire,' my uncle said and stood up. 'John, Rickard, Markus, say farewell to your families. You may not see them again for a while.'

'Yes uncle,' I responded and left to go and see Sunniva and my children.

I climbed onto my horse and rode down through the streets of the city, soon I found my way back to my house and walked in to see Sunniva sitting nervously by the empty fire place.

'Well?' she asked me.

'It's bad,' I answered and knelt by her chair. 'Where are the children?'

'In their rooms. I asked them to stay there for now.'

'Good. Sunniva, Gondor is being invaded.'

'By who?'

'The Haradrim, Sunniva. My uncle's leading all of the English Knights in the city to the Poros where an army will be ready. We're going to guard it and then the king will lead the rest of the army to the Poros and we'll throw the Haradrim back to the deserts.'

'Oh John,' Sunniva wept and held onto me. 'Oh John why did this have to happen?'

'I'll be back, Sunniva. I promise I'll be back.'

'You better.'

...

Early the next morning the church of Saint Mary was packed full of soldiers and knights wearing red capes and armour. I was amongst them, standing near the front with my cousins and in front of us was my uncle. Arch Bishop Harold stood before us praying before the campaign.

'Blessed be the Lord my Strength who teacheth our hands to war and our fingers to fight. This day you march out to defend the realm from vile invaders. God be with you and may the saints guide your blades!'

At that we all bowed and then walked out of the church to where our horses were waiting. I walked up to mine and climbed onto him.

'Here we go again,' Rickard said to me.

'I hope we reach the Poros in time.'

'We will. I just hope there's plenty of Haradrim waiting there for us.'

'Maybe the Saracens will be there as well.'

'Who knows?'

'We're about to find out.'

I looked out towards my uncle who was sitting on his horse looking at his men.

'Soldiers of Gondor, we march to war!'

At that we cheered and then started our ride towards the gates through the streets. As we rode the people of the city were standing on the paths by the streets and looked out of the windows waving us off. Soon we came past those I wanted to see. Sunniva standing there with our children. They looked up at me with a strange look I recognised. It was the same look I held for my father when he and my uncle rode out for battle. I smiled down at them and waved before I looked away and we began our journey to Poros as the beacons of Minas Tirith were lit.

...

'Hold the line!' Captain Bregon shouted and swung down his sword cutting a Harad soldier in half.

The castle he commanded on the border was the largest of the border forts. Not only was there a castle to defend the river there was a large town which had grown around it. The hope was that it would eventually grow into a trading post but now they were under attack. Bregon only had a small garrison to defend the castle at the heart of the town, two hundred heavy infantry, fifty archers and three hundred militia armed with spears and halberds. He was on the castle wall and stabbed an enemy soldier as he reached the top of the siege ladder. As the dead soldier fell backwards off of the ladder Bregon got a look at the town below and he felt his heart break. Many buildings were on fire and the townspeople were being marched south to the river in chains. Suddenly his view was blocked by an enemy soldier who was the last person Bregon ever saw.

 **AN: Sorry this took a little while. Anyway, I've written a crossover between Game of Thrones and Narnia called "The Lion Lord" if you want to read it. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and please review. Now, to everyone, have a Happy New Year.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **KiyaNamiel: Thank you very much for your review. Yeah, I thought that it would be an interesting plot point having Saracens turning up. Thanks very much for your review.**

 **ATP: I'll think on what you've said and thank you for your review.**


	35. Chapter 34 The Second Battle of Poros

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Four

The Second Battle of Poros

Our journey to the Crossings of Poros was a simple one. We left Minas Tirith and galloped south as fast as possible. On the way there we went through a few towns and villages on the way, even passing Bain Bloss where we saw that old battlefield. We spent the night in that town which was good news for Mathew as he was able to see his wife again. As we travelled we found a few hangers on joining our ranks including sell swords, landless knights and healers wanting to do some good. A few priests and their acolytes joined us on the way as well, led by a priest who had changed his name to Luke after converting. We met up with my uncles forces outside of Pelargir and then travelled across the Anduin to the mouth of the Poros. We then marched along the river to the Crossings.

We made camp a distance from the crossings near a fresh water spring while my uncle ordered a few dozen men to constantly guard the Crossings. Over the course of a few days large groups of refugees crossed the water. They were a mix of ordinary people, wounded and tired, with wealthy merchants and nobles carrying what little they still owned on their backs. Others were soldiers only wearing the lightest of mail of shirts and carrying their beaten, bloody swords over their shoulders. All of them told the same story, horsemen storming the villages, plaguing the roads while the castles and towns burned to ash. One morning, maybe a week after we arrived, I sat with my cousins and Mathew by one of the smaller fires as we ate a few pieces of bread and salted meat for breakfast, our daily rations. My uncle encouraged us knights to eat together to make sure we were close on and off the field of battle. I looked at some of the knights sitting together around our fire with my cousins and friend. There were a group of Gondorian converts, young men who had only just risen out of the level of squires. Few of them had ever seen a real battle before. There was a pair of old knights who had lost their lands thanks disinheritance. They were sell swords, looking forward to payment and their next meal. Then there was Argaloth, a disgraced warrior who had been thrown out of the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth in disgrace. He was a lean man, always on edge with a narrow face and dirty gray hair. Then there were us, the original members of the Order who had tasted victory before.

'Worst thing about fighting, well, the food tasted like a pigs arse,' joked Rickard.

'Aye,' agreed Argaloth. 'I remember, while you lot were sitting around in Rohan me and some others were following an Orc raiding party. All we had to eat was bread turning green.'

'That's nothing,' Mathew told him. 'When I was a boy me and my brother raided the local lords kitchen,' he laughed at the memory. 'We didn't realise what we nicked was meant for the pigs.'

At that we all laughed and I shook my head.

'With any luck this campaign will be over soon and we can go back to fresh fruit and cool wine,' I said to the others.

'Aye,' Argaloth said and looked at the salted meat in his weathered hand. 'I need some wine.'

Suddenly a horn blasted through the air and we all looked at each other, knowing what it meant. Suddenly everyone in the camp was rushing back to their tents to get their armour and weapons ready for battle. Soon, with the help of a squire, I was in my armour and I stepped out of my tent. I then rushed to the command tent to see my uncle where I saw most of the officers already there. My uncle stood at the head of the table wearing his full armour, a metal dome over the stump at his elbow, and hanging from his shoulders was a long emerald cloak, the same colour as his men's coats of plates.

'Our scouts have told us that the enemy is marching on us now,' my uncle told us. They'll be here in an hour, maybe two if we're lucky.'

'And what shall we do my lord?' asked one of the officers.

'We will fight them here,' my uncle said and pointed at a point on his map about halfway between our camp and the Crossings.

I looked down at that position and saw that it was in full sight of the Crossings, anyone moving across the river would clearly see us.

'Father if we moved our men up to the crossings we'd have the advantage,' Markus said to him.

'We will fight them here,' my uncle snapped at him and then he calmed his voice. 'The Haradrim will expect us to defend the river itself. If we stand there they'll just pepper us with arrows until our lines are so thin a mouse could break them. No, we'll invite them to attack us,' my uncle said and then took some ink and quickly sketched his planned formation of our army on the map where he wanted to fight and then quickly drew a square on the far side of the river representing the enemy before pulling a knife from his belt and planting it in the heart of the square, 'and then we'll destroy them.'

My uncle told us what our plan was in more detail and I liked what he said. It was a good plan which could be used to win the battle. I was given command of a hundred or so swordsmen who would fight in the front line. This was the formation we used. At the front of our position were archers armed with longbows, bucklers and daggers who wore sallet helms and each had a green coat of plates. They were trained in the same manner as the bowmen of England. Behind them was where I stood in the middle of the swordsmen's line. We were in tight formation and held our shields ready. On the left and right flanks were the spearmen. They were not directly facing the river like the swordsmen. Instead they were angled away from the river like the sides of an arrow. Rickard commanded the right hand line of spearmen and Sir Gofder commanded the left. My uncle was directly behind the line of swordsmen on his horse with a few body guards and behind him were the cavalry, under the command of Markus. They were in reserve for what my uncle called, "The smallest yet most important moment." Knowing that moment was the most important aspect of war. From where I was I looked at the backs of the archers in front of me and past their line of sharpened stakes to the river and the horde of horsemen preparing for battle on the other side of it. Three thousand of them were galloping around with their weapons raised, screaming praises to their chieftains and Morgoth. As they galloped around they were kicking up great clouds of hot dust and blowing horns to frighten us. Looking behind me into the ranks further from the front I saw the faces of some of my men. Their Sallet helmets did not have their visors lowered revealing the fear on their young faces. My uncle kept his men well trained but all the training in the world could not prepare you for the rush of emotions before a battle. Knowing that they needed some encouragement I gripped the handle of my sword and the familiar feeling of warmth spread up through my arm to my heart. Slowly I drew Alaric from his sheath and I smiled at the sight of the orange, flickering blade. I held the sword aloft and looked towards the enemy, knowing that the sight would inspire the men under my command.

'Quit showing off,' a voice said to me and I looked at Argaloth who was standing next to me with a shield in his hand painted with a crow and in his sword hand was an older weapon with a handle replaced several times.

'The men need some encouragement,' I reminded him but I lowered my sword, not putting it away.

'That's why the scarred ones are at the back. They don't need to get bloodied.'

'I expect them all to fight.'

'They will. Your uncle's good at inspiring loyalty I'll give him that.'

Speaking of which,' I said as I saw my uncle ride through the ranks to appear before his army. He cast his gaze over each of his soldiers and then spoke.

'Sons of Gondor, here we come to fight an old enemy again. You all know what sort of men these Haradrim are. They are barbarians, slaughterers of children and women. The king and his army are maybe a week away. If we lose here nothing stands before the Haradrim. You are charged with the defence of the realm and I expect you all to defend it for God is watching us! Make sure you do not offend him!'

At this we cheered him on as my uncle turned around to face the enemy who were preparing to cross the Poros at last. My uncle, carefully balanced on his disciplined horse, let go of the beast's reins, and held his two fingers up at the enemy which the archers copied, laughing at our enemies. My uncle then rode back to his position. laughing wishing his men good luck as he rode by. I looked at the enemy as they slowly moved through the knee deep water and then swifty they rushed up the open plain by the river towards us. By the way they were moving they appeared to be mounted archers, armed with short bows and light armour. Yet, behind them rode rank upon rank of warriors in shining armour to match our wealthiest knights knights. With them were men in mail and long flowing robes of red and black. They all rushed across the river, their horses carrying them well. I even saw groups of them riding camels into battle. The enemy quickly formed up into their fighting positions. In the centre were their heaviest warriors with lighter cavalry on the flanks and their archers in the front. I looked at the men around me, looked at my uncle who sat on his horse before three standard bearers, one carrying a standard for the Order, one for Gondor and one for the Harris family, the cross over a tree and stars. The blew in the wind displayed for the enemy to see.

My gaze was torn forwards again in time to see the enemy begin to slowly move forwards. They fought in their own way, usually against light infantry with some heavy groups of men. Soon they slow advance became a full scale charge and I felt my heart pounding away. Their archers raced faster than the others, eager to get their arrows off at us. I heard my uncle's voice again then.

'Archers, nock!' In front of me I saw the archers nock their arrows into their bowstrings. 'Draw! Loose!'

Suddenly a terrible howl filled the air as hundred of arrows suddenly flew into the sky. Hundreds of them formed a cloud which descended on the swarm of mounted archers. I could see the beasts fall dead and their masters being thrown through the air before crashing into the ground. The archers let off arrows as fast as they could but even they couldn't shoot evry enemy archer. The enemy finally became close enough and then let off their arrows. Many crashed into our archers who clutched at the wounds in their necks and weak points in their armour. Others hit my men but the arrows became embedded in steel plates but didn't go much further. Others shattered against shield and armour. Some of my men though did fall dead, clutching at the arrows in their faces as blood gushed out of their wounds.

'Visors down!' I shouted and shut my helmet, suddenly my only vision became the narrow slit in the steal.

I heard arrows fly through the air around me and I lifted up my shield to add extra protection from the enemy arrows. When the arrows stopped I lowered my shield and looked towards the enemy. Before I even looked I felt the ground begin to shake as three thousand horsemen charged directly at us. The archers rushed from their positions as was the normal order to take up new positions behind the safety of my men. The thousands of cavalry charging at us were an incredible sight. A solid wall of shining segmented armour, lance tips and scimitars. They yelled their praises as they charged in a frenzied madness. However, at the last moment they realised what they were charging at. They charged straight into the line of stakes and in one moment their charge was broken. Horses went straight through the steaks, their guts being torn out and men somersaulted into the air to land in front of our ranks before being quickly cut down. The pile of dead horses and men forced the others to stop before being knocked over by the horsemen behind them. Their great, heroic charge became but a simple chaotic mess just as my uncles plan suggested. I looked at the men around me and gave the order.

'Charge!'

At that we cheered and charged directly at the enemy. I let out a battle cry as I raced forwards to the confused mass of men before me. I stabbed up into the neck of one of their men and my noble weapon burnt straight through him and came out the top of his helmet. I pulled my weapon back and knocked a lance jab with my shield before cleaving off the arm of its owner. A horse reared up at me and prepared to strike my head with its hooves. I didn't give it the chance and cut the animals belly open. The beast moaned as it fell over trapping its owner beneath it. I moved quickly and stabbed down at him. All around me my men struck up at our enemies, slowly driving our way past corpses of men and horses and bloodied, broken stakes. I was standing on the body of a man who was on top of another body and maybe another one. I parried the blow of a scimitar and then stabbed him straight through the man's mail shirt killing him. His body fell to the ground, added to the carpet of corpses. I stopped fighting for a few moments and looked around me, pushing up my visor and the stench of battle hit me. Many of the enemy had abandoned their mounts and were fighting as infantry. Everywhere I looked I saw men and horses in a brutal battle with the hot sun beating down on us. A scimitar swung at me and I dodged out of the way, almost slipping on the mess of bodies and blood. My enemy, a wealthy young nobleman from Harad by the look of him, swung his ornate sword again and I blocked the blow with Alaric who shattered my opponents weapon. The shards of metal darted into the Harad mans eyes and he collapsed, clutching the bloody remains of his eyes. I stabbed down into the back of his neck before moving on, pushing further into the enemies positions.

The solid line of Gondorian swords defended themselves well but still I saw my men fall. My men fell, clutching their black stained coats and their heads rolled onto the ground. Our advance was soon halted by the press of enemy bodies. It was brutal. Blood spurted through the air as we fought tooth and nail to defend our land. Just to me left a man was stabbed through the neck and fell dead before being avenged by the man who stood in the rank behind him. Looking over the heads of the men in the chaotic battle I saw the spearmen under Rickard's command defending themselves well and the archers behind us losing arrows over our heads at where they hoped the enemy archers were. Suddenly I was back in the fight so I hacked and slashed as hard as I could, adding to the pile of corpses. Just to my right Argaloth was hacking swiftly at the enemy with all of the skill from the order of knights he had been expelled from. His scratched armour was bloody and his steel skull cap was dented but he still fought on, enjoying the thrill of combat.

Suddenly something changed. The press of Harad bodies against us slackened and I realised why. Just over the heads of the men fighting I saw a line of solid plate armour charging them at the flank. Their shields were crosses, some over trees and stars, but I knew who it was. Markus and his cavalry charged into the right flank of the enemy. Their lances shattered as they cut down the enemy and trampled them beneath iron shod hooves. The swords flashed into the sun as they cut our enemies down. Before me our enemies tried to retreat.

'Charge them down!' I shouted and we charged after them, cutting down any we could reach.

I slashed one across the back of his legs and he fell over but I rushed on, leaving him to the men behind me. In the end we stopped, completely out of breath as the cavalry charged the enemy down all the way to the Crossings. Soon I looked at Alaric as the flickering light vanished with the last of the enemy. Some cheered, some wept. All had seen war at the end of that day. It was the start of the Umbar War.

 **AN: Well there goes another battle and another chapter. Tell me, what did you think of this? I hope you all liked it so please review. I loved writing this chapter.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: I'm glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you liked this one. Also, thanks for your ideas on the Avari but I don't think I will have any of them converting. Elves have followed Illuvitar for millennia and I don't think that they would be willing to turn away from him for something new. I know there are many similarities between Eru and God but the Elves may see them as different beings so they may not convert. Still, it is a good idea.**

 **Kiya Namiel: Well, the way has properly begun. Yeah, I liked writing the scene between John and Sunniva. I didn't want it to get too melodramatic or over the top so I decided to go a little more subtle. Thanks for the review.**


	36. Chapter 35 Changing Blood

Strangers No More

I do not own the Rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Five

Changing Blood

The walls, the floor and the roof were all made of rare black marble, dozens of carved pillars lined the massive hall and the massive windows were made from red stained glass bathing every surface in a terrible dark colour. Around the edges of the room were deep fire pits filling the air with thick hot smoke. Below the largest window, the east one, was a tall altar of black marble with several marble steps leading up to it. The pleas for mercy from the young woman chained to the altar went unanswered by the dozens of elite Avari soldiers standing guard holding their halberds, black armour and long cloaks and dark blue. Above the young woman the cloaked leader of Umbar and dozens of Harad tribes stood and looked at its prey. She was young, no more than twenty years, with black hair and unevenly tanned skin. She was wearing simple clothes, perfect for an offering. She was one of dozens captured in the early raids against Gondor. The others were held in cells below the temple and more prisoners were on the way. The cloaked figure drew its dagger and knelt before the sacrifice, looked east and preyed in Elvish a long and twisted series of words, slowing the cloaked figure twisted in ways which would break the bones of a mere mortal or even an Elf.

'Please let me go,' the woman wept.

The figure raised its dagger and thrust it down into the woman's chest. Her body stiffened but she didn't scream. Her throat was blocked with thick blood and gore which she began to choke on. The cloaked figure sawed with the knife, blood spurting onto her cloak as she did so, until a large enough hole had been made in her ribs. The woman was still barely holding onto life but only by the cloaked ones dark powers. The killer reached into the hole and smiled before pulling out the woman's heart and holding the hot lump of dead, bloody flesh in the air, blood gushing down the cloaked ones arms and cloak. The killer stood up, still clutching both the heart and knife, and stepped down from the altar. It walked around it pausing at each of the fourteen carvings in the floor around the altar before squeezing the bloody organ so blood dripped onto them. At last the cloaked on held the heart high again and stabbed it straight through before shouting,

'LACH!'

The heart and the woman's body burst into flames, the smoke writing in the air and for the briefest moment it looked to be in the shape of an arch before vanishing. The cloaked figure screamed, threw the knife onto the floor and paced violently, the Avari watched on nervously in case their leader struck out at them. When the body and heart had vanished not even leaving ash the cloaked one shouted at the guards.

'Bring the next one! I'm getting closer each day. Their blood is too weak.'

...

I cleaned my sword. It had been days since the battle but still I felt the need to clean Alaric of the blood. I looked up from the boulder I was sat on with some disgust. The bodies of our men had been buried in mass graves a distance from the river while our enemy's remains had been cremated on massive pyres. Still, there were still large piles of weapons and armour everywhere which had been collected after the battle to be sent back to Minas Tirith to show our victory. Tiring of cleaning my weapon I sheathed it and climbed off the boulder before walking over to one of the large wooden crosses marking where a mass grave was located. Rickard was there as he shook his head.

'How many?' I asked him.

'Of my spearmen, a hundred and seven. You?'

'A hundred and fifty swordsmen died.'

'And your company?'

'Seventeen. How many altogether?'

'Over six hundred of our men are dead.'

'Damn.'

'I think my father's taking it badly.'

'You're right. Losing men is something he's always hated.'

'I know. I wish the king and the rest of the army will arrive soon. I don't think we can hold the enemy off again.'

'I thought you were the optimist,' I said and crossed my arms, grinning slightly.

'I am but not an idiot like you,' he said and grinned back.

'Coming from you?'

Just then a horn sounded through the air which grabbed the attention of everyone. It was not our warning horn for battle. Instead it was one we hadn't heard before.

'Is it the enemy?' asked Mathew as he rushed over to us.

'No it's coming from the north,' I answered as we made our way to the command tent to see my uncle.

When we reached it my uncle was standing outside with a few officers. Suddenly a cheer went up from some of the soldiers followed by the sound of maybe a hundred galloping horses. I tried to looked towards the source of the noise but the view was blocked by the men cheering on whoever it was. Soon, over the heads of the men, I saw a standard held high. It was orange with a purple Christian cross on it. In each of the four corners of the flag I saw a golden "E". Suddenly the men parted and I saw the new arrivals. Each man was a light cavalryman, one of whom was carrying the standard. Instead of the heavy suits of plate armour they wore tall, thick leather boots, padded trousers and shirts with breast plates, vambrace's and helmets which tapered to tips at the front. Each man was armed with a thin lance and a thin, single edged sword with a basket hilt. However, one figure stood out amongst them as he was the only one wearing full plate and carried a bastard sword. His armour was ornately designed to be as much a work of art as protection in war.

'Edmund,' my uncle said and smiled as his old comrade climbed off his horse and the two men shook hands. Edmund had aged well, the only sign of the years were a few streaks of white hair. 'It's good to see you again old friend.'

'It's good to see you as well Lord Harris,' he responded. 'I see your boys have had some fun already.'

'Not really fun my friend. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were in Bree Country.'

'I was but on the way back I heard some bad news.'

'What bad news?' my uncle asked him, suddenly worried.

'Apparently some of the Dunedain have been attacked. Masked warriors in black robes attacked their people and tried to kidnap some of them. They failed but I decided to get back to Gondor as soon as possible.'

'I'm glad you did Edmund. Do you have any news on the king's army?'

'I'm afraid so. I'd rather tell you with the rest of your officers.'

'Of course,' my uncle said with a frown of concern. 'I suppose your men must be tired. My men will stable your horses and your can rest for a while.'

'Thank you Lord Harris.'

About half an hour later I sat with my cousins in the command tent as Edmund, now wearing his normal clothes, began to tell us what was happening.

'To put it simply the Kings Army has been hit by every single problem you can imagine. Supply problems, road damage, the weather. Everything's been slowing them down. They won't be here for another three days.'

'So the defence of the realm is in an army which has lost a quarter of its men,' said Markus, clearly annoyed.

'I've brought new orders,' Edmund told us. 'The King says that if you cannot defend the Crossings you will retreat north along the road until you join the main army.'

'I see,' my uncle said and stroked his chin. 'Our scouts say that the enemies main force will be here any day now. We could be facing twenty thousand of them at least. Even if we bottleneck the ford we won't be able to withstand them. I want the army to be prepared to retreat at a moment's notice. Load all of our supplies onto carts and tell the men that we may need to march at any time.'

'If we retreat we would have lost six hundred men for nothing!' shouted Rickard as he held up his fist. 'We can't just abandon this place.'

'No Rickard,' I said to him and he looked at me in surprise. 'If we stay here we will all die.'

'Thank you John,' my uncle said to me and then looked at Rickard. 'I have made my decision son. You have to follow it.'

Rickard was clearly frustrated but still he obeyed his father's command and sat there in his chair, still clearly angry.

...

It was late at night in Umbar as the cloaked one walked toward the small laboratory located in one of the cellars beneath the palace. The walls were lined with books taken from the libraries in Isengard. All of them were the White Wizard's theories on creating new forms of life from already existing life. They contained the secrets to creating Uruk Hai but the cloaked one didn't care about them. All Orcs were useless creatures good for nothing. In this case the cloaked one stepped up to the desk where dozens of bottles holding the various potions and substances created for this purpose. However, the most important ones were a bottle of blood drained from a captive, bowls of dangerous blue and purple powders and cages of small creatures, lizards, rats and birds. The cloaked one was ready to continue with the experiments for the next creature for the army.

 **AN: Well, here's the latest chapter and what do you think? I hope you all liked it and I enjoyed writing it.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: We'll agree to disagree on the converting point. I loved writing that battle. I may have been watching Game of Thrones while doing it though.**

 **KiyaNamiel: I'm really glad you liked that last chapter. I absolutely loved writing the battle in it. Also, no, you cannot have Alaric.**


	37. Chapter 36 The Battle Comes Close

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Six

The Battle Comes Close

Aragorn stood on the hill in Southern Ithilien flanked by a pair of his guards. The hill was wide with gentle slopes and occasionally there was a tree, shrub or boulder. North of the hill was a large forest and a small village named Edwistchien, inhabited by Rohirrim who had lost their homes during the war of the Ring. That reminded him that Eomer was assembling his own forces but the Rohirrim would not be ready for another war for a few weeks at least. The army was camped on the north slope of the hill, eleven thousand soldiers ready to defend Gondor. The King of Gondor however was focused on the south. In the distance he could see smoke rising from villages which had been attacked. Refugees were still streaming north.

'Your Majesty,' Faramir, wearing the garb of a ranger, said to him. 'Your Majesty, my men have just returned from scouting. The enemy have built a camp four miles away.'

'And what of Lord Harris?'

'He has based himself at a small village a mile away. His sons and nephew are trying to evacuate the local towns as fast as they can before the enemy attack comes.'

'Good. Send a rider to Lord Harris. He is to continue his evacuation work until sunset. After that he and his men must join us here by sunrise tomorrow. I fear that is when the battle will be fought.'

'I remember something Boromir said to me once,' said Faramir. 'Anywhere can be turned into a battlefield no matter how beautiful it is.'

'He was sadly right. Still, this will serve us well as a place to fight.'

'Certainly. I will send the message to Lord Harris now.'

'Thank you.'

Faramir walked away as Aragorn looked at his men who were preparing the ground for the battle. The Fire Hands were cutting down trees and moving boulders to get rid of the cover for the enemy. Cannon crews were rolling their weapons into place and carts of powder and cannon balls were being covered by animal skins to keep their contents dry. He looked at a few of the Ribaults being checked by their officers as well. Aragorn thought about how much warfare had changed since he had become king. The only soldiers in Gondor's army who still used bows were the Rangers, the rest of the army used crossbows and firearms. More than that, the Ribault had only been used in one battle so far where three of them faced an enemy cavalry charge. A quarter of the horses had been torn apart and the others fled. The world was clearly changing.

I swung Alaric through the Harad's neck and my enemy's corpse fell dead from the horse. I looked around me at the small skirmish around the hunters hut. I and my twenty knights had been able to persuade the hunter and his family to flee only ten minutes before an enemy force arrived. We were outnumbered two to one but we had just been able to hold our own in the cavalry battle around the hut. Next to me Mathew on his horse parried a blow and cut off his enemy's sword hand before driving his sword through the man's neck. I looked through the visor of my helmet and saw one of my men being trampled by a Harad rider. I knew we couldn't hold them for much longer.

'Withdraw!' I shouted. 'Withdraw!'

One of my men blew a horn and at that my knights retreated. We galloped north west to where I knew Rickard was leading a cavalry patrol to check that the refugees were able to escape. Ahead of us was a light scattering of trees so it wasn't hard to move quickly. Behind us though, the enemy, who were lighter armed, were gaining on us. I urged my horse to go faster as I looked over my shoulder at the enemy. My horse leapt over a small stream and I looked about a quarter of a mile ahead of us. On a hillside there I saw Rickard and his twenty horsemen. He appeared to notice us and he led his cavalry at full charge down to help us. I just hoped they would make it in time. Just before the enemy could properly catch us there was a sudden horn blast and, out of a dip in the ground close by, suddenly charged Edmund and his cavalry who crashed into our enemies left.

'Turn about and charge!' I ordered and spun around on my horse and together we cleaved a path through our pursuers.

My flickering blade went through three men before our combined charges drove the enemy into retreat. Just after we were finished Rickard and his men galloped into the battlefield.

'Missed it then,' he stated and looked at the bodies.

'I'm afraid you did Rickard,' Edmund told him as he slid his blade back into his sheath.

'Damn. My men managed to get the hunter to safety though. I don't think there should be any more villages to clear out.'

'We'd better head back to the hut,' said Mathew. 'I reckon there'll be food in there that we can't let the enemy have.'

'You're right,' I agreed with him. 'Rickard, go back to your father and tell him that our area is clear of people to evacuate. We'll be heading back to him soon.'

'Good. I met a rider from Markus earlier. He's spying on the enemy camp.'

'What do we know?'

'Just that they're making camp there and they've sent out a few raiding parties. I think they'll march out in the morning and we'll meet them in battle tomorrow afternoon.'

'Got it. I'll see you later Rickard.'

'Take care, John. These woods aren't safe.'

At that Rickard and his men rode away while I took mine back to the hut. Edmund went on to double check the local villages in case they had missed anyone. At the hut we found a few of the Haradrim who were looking for any food but we saw them off quickly. After searching the hut we found a few deer carcases and a dozen rabbits. We took the rabbits and, knowing that we couldn't take the deer on our horses, we burned them. Nothing was left behind for the enemy.

My uncle stood in an inn which had been abandoned in the face of the enemy advance. In front of him was a hastily made map of the area with all of the local villages and homes drawn on it. Most of the villages were circled in red ink showing they had been evacuated. Around my uncle messengers were rushing in and out, carrying messages from the various patrols and leaving with new orders.

'Lord Harris,' one messenger said to him, 'a message from Sir Markus.'

He then handed my uncle a note which he quickly read.

'Damn,' my uncle said and threw the paper away. 'Go and tell Markus that he must get away from the enemy camp at once and return here within the hour.'

'Yes milord,' he responded and rushed away.

'Lord Harris,' another said to him, 'word from the second company. The people at this village,' he then pointed at one of the un-circled villages on the map, 'are refusing to leave their homes.'

'For God's sake,' my uncle said and ran his hand through his hair. 'We can't spare any men. Order the second to leave them and return here. The village is in God's hands now.'

'Yes milord,' he answered before leaving quickly.

'You,' he said and pointed at a messenger as he scribbled an order to move back to the king on a piece of parchment, 'find Sir Edmund and give him this message,' he passed the note to the man. 'Sir Edmund should be in this area here,' he told him and pointed at a point close to the hunters hut. 'Now go,' before the man had even left the room he was sending orders out to other patrols, mostly to check the few remaining villages and homesteads and then to return back to him.

My uncle heard the door open again and glanced up to see a Ranger hurry in. He walked over to my uncle and bowed quickly before speaking.

'Lord Harris, I bring a message from the king. You must leave here by midnight at the latest and then join the main army with all your forces. Be there by dawn.'

'Tell the king that I will leave as soon as I can. That's all.'

'Very well milord,' he bowed again before leaving.

'How many messengers do we have left here?' he asked one of his officers.

'Eleven.'

'Send them all out with the same message. 'Abandon patrols at once and withdraw to Edwistchien. Any villages not evacuated are to be left to fend for themselves.'

All of the messengers in there with him heard it and looked down heartened as they left with that sad order. My uncle moved on to his next instructions.

'I want all the men we have here to begin the march to Edwistchien. Infantry will go first followed by the cavalry. I'll leave last with my personal guard.'

'Yes milord,' an officer responded and left to organise the march.

My uncle stayed there for a while, responding to messages from his men who were finishing their patrols. A few hours went by but my uncle didn't move. When all but he and his guards had left he took a quill and red ink and circled the village he was at.

'Let's go,' he said to his guards and they retreated.

 **AN: At first this chapter was going to be in the same one as the main battle but the battle still hasn't been finished and I didn't want to keep you all waiting forever so here's the prelude to the next battle. I hope you enjoyed it and please give me your thoughts.**

 **Also, I've published a Star Wars story called "The Empire of Earth". Check it out if you want.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: Yeah, the new villain knows the weaknesses of the Orcs well and is creating their own new servants.**

 **Kiya Namiel: Don't sulk. Just so you know, the sacrifice thing was more than just pointless violence as you will see.**


	38. Chapter 38 The Battle of Edwistchien I

Strangers no More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Seven

The Battle of Edwistchien I

A lone horseman rode over gently sloping hills. The rider smiled at the fond memories of the place he was seeing. In the distance was his castle, the seat of his family's home for so long. Yet he knew it was not real. That castle, who knew what had happened to it in the nearly twenty years which had passed since he left. My uncle looked down at his right arm and knew that he was in a dream. He could see his right arm and hand. He looked at his old castle there and the serenity fled the area when another rider approached him from behind. My uncle looked around and sighed.

'You're supposed to be dead brother,' my uncle said to the vision before him.

'Dead?' my father asked him and laughed. 'Which fool said that life stopped at death?'

My uncle tried to think of a response but he couldn't think of one. My father laughed and rode next to his brother.

'So, I am finally dreaming of you. I must be an old man.'

'I never had to go through that.'

'And I'm talking to something which isn't real.'

'I'm real James. I'm as real as my grandchildren.'

My uncle looked at his long dead brother. He hadn't aged a day since his death. He looked almost identical to me except for the shape of the nose and the way his hair grew.

'If you're real then why haven't you tried to talk to me before?'

'It's not very easy to talk to my family. I can only do it when something vital is happening.'

'And what's vital at last?'

'This war. James, understand that I can't tell you too much, the future is murky to all of us, but please take care.'

'Take care of whom? Myself? My sons? Your son?'

'After all this time James he's as much your son as he is mine.'

'No he isn't. You were never able to see John grow into a man but he acts like you and talks like you. Sometimes I think that he is you.'

'I know. I saw it all.'

'You should have lived,' the old man said to his young brother and looked down. 'I should have died on that field.'

'It was not your fate to die that die.'

'Then why was it yours?'

'My destiny was not fixed. I wish I knew why but I don't. Thank you for raising my son. Take heed my brother. Dangerous days are ahead of you.'

My uncle shot up. He was in his dark tent and in his comfortable travel bed. He groaned and held his head in his one hand. It was still dark but not as dark as night so dawn would not be far off. There was no point in going back to sleep so he climbed out of bed and started getting dressed. It wasn't easy with only one arm but he'd had years to practice. Soon he was wearing simple clothes, a green doublet, leather jerkin, wool breaches and his boots. He also put on an emerald cloak and stepped out of the tent into the centre of the camp. The king's tent was not far away and all of the other officers tents were in a ring around it. Around the edges of the trenches flap my uncle could see light meaning that the king was still awake. My uncle wasn't surprised. He never left any part of his battle plans to chance.

He walked away from the officers tents and soon found himself walking amongst the rank and file of the army. The ordinary soldiers were walking around the camp already, some eating breakfast and others were sharpening their swords. He saw a young woman in a slightly torn dress walking out of a tent slightly groggily and not far away a pair of soldiers playing dice.

'James,' said a voice from behind him and then he turned around to see Hannastog walking towards him.

'Hannastog,' my uncle responded and they shook hands. 'How are your men?'

'Fine actually. They're ready for the battle.'

'Good. We need all the men ready.'

'Well the best thing about the Fire Hands is that most of the volunteers are young men eager for glory.'

'Yes,' my uncle said and thought back to his younger days. 'We were all looking forward to glory when we were young.'

'Of course. I was going to inspect the cannons while the crews were away. Care to join me?'

'No thank you my friend. I was going to see my men first.'

'Very well. I'll see you later.'

'See you later.'

Soon my uncle managed to locate men wearing the green of his men at arms. A group of them were sitting around a campfire as they sharpened their swords.

'How are you all?' he asked them and at once they all stood up and bowed, simultaneously saying "milord".

'We are well milord,' one of them responded.

'Excellent. May I sit with you?'

'Of course,' that soldier responded.

My uncle sat on a small chair and looked at the faces of the men. They were all young, most had not seen twenty years but they had all tasted war.

'What's your name?' my uncle asked the soldier.

'Me milord?'

'Yes you.'

'My name is Jonah milord.'

'Jonah. You are a Christian then?'

'Yes,' he said and smiled. 'My mother was one of the first converts.'

'Tell me, do you fear the battle on the morrow?'

'No,' he said but his heart wasn't in his answer.

'Really?'

'I fear it sir. My cousin died at Poros.'

'I'm sorry Jonah. I fear tomorrow as well.'

'You do?' asked one of the other men, clearly surprised.

'Of course. Every time I face a battle I always fear it. I fight it back though, just like I fight the enemy. I wish you good luck for the battle ahead.'

My uncle stood up again and walked amongst his men having similar conversations with them. He let his men know he was with them.

...

The Church of Saint Mary in Minas Tirith was empty in the middle of the night. The only person there was Sunniva as she knelt before the altar and silently prayed, her head lowered and her hands together. The only light came from a few candles flickering around the church As she prayed my wife didn't notice the sound of someone walking in.

'I should start locking up when the priest isn't here.'

Sunniva shot up and spun around on her heel only to see the elderly arch bishop walking towards the altar.

'Forgive me Your Grace but I wished to pray.'

'You can pray at home my dear.'

'I know but I feel closer to God here. This is where you baptised my children, where you married John and I, where my sons will take their vows when they become knights.'

'God is everywhere child,' he told her as he sat down on one of the front pews. 'Who were you praying for?'

'John, Markus, Rickard, Cenric.'

'All those you care for who are at war or soon will be.'

'Yes,' she responded. 'I pray that God will be on their side.'

'In my experience everyone who marches to war believes God to be on his side. I believe that God often wonders who is truly on his.'

'Oh.'

'You can sit with me if you wish. I often come here at night to think.'

Sunniva sat in the pew next to him and looked at the old man. His eye sight was fading every day apparently but he still carried on in his duties.

'Your Grace, when you come here to think, what is it you think of?'

'The future, the past, the present. I come here and, as you do, I feel close to God and I feel that he will forgive me all I have done.'

'Why would you need forgiveness? You're the holiest man in the city.'

'True but I was not always a holy man.'

'You weren't?'

'No. Once, a long time ago, I never thought of being a priest. I was a knight like John and Rickard. When I was seventeen, by God that was so long ago, when I was seventeen I was betrothed to a beautiful young woman and my destiny seemed set.'

'What happened?' my wife asked him as a smile appeared over the old man's face. The smile though was not of happiness, it was of memories and a vision of a life which never happened.

'I was seventeen. I was riding to Elizabeth's, that was her name, Elizabeth's castle where she lived with her family. I was meant to arrive sooner but I and some of my friends drank too much on an inn so we decided to wait for a day before going on. Yet, as I rode over a hill I saw smoke rising into the sky. I raced there as quickly as I could only to find that a rival family had attacked the castle the day before. They put everyone to the sword. I found, I found Elizabeth's body in her chamber. Her beautiful face was turned to pulp, her clothes torn from her body, her emerald eyes put out, her fire like hair torn from her scalp.'

'I'm so sorry Your Grace.'

'I wasn't sad,' he said to her, almost admitting it. 'I was angry and all I could see was red. I assembled as many sellsword's as I could, gathered some penniless knights together and we attacked those who killed Elizabeth. There was a battle and I made sure my betrothed was avenged. When I returned home my father had already arranged a new bridge for me but I couldn't do it. I couldn't take a wife after seeing Elizabeth's body. I left home and joined the priesthood. You see why I feel like I must ask forgiveness from God. Now, I think you should go and be with your children. They will need you if the worst should happen.'

'Of course Your Grace,' Sunniva said and left the church. Just before she walked out of the doors she looked over her shoulder and saw the Arch Bishop raise a hand to his milky eyes to wipe away a tear.

...

Horns blasted through as thousands of men marched into position. Hundreds of banners fluttered in the air proclaiming their loyalty to the King of Gondor and their liege lords. Aragorn sat on his white warhorse wearing his full suit of armour and the re-forged blade was at his waist. Around him were his bodyguards and officer, all ready for the battle ahead. From his position at the top of the hill he could see the way his army had been positioned for the battle. On each flank was positioned three hundred horsemen, both knights and light cavalry. Between the cavalry were the infantry. They were assembled in four lines of battle, each line numbering two thousand men, and they were ready for battle. Two ribaults were positioned in the front rank of soldiers as well. In front of them were five hundred Firehands with their weapons ready. Behind the infantry were the Rangers and crossbowmen, their weapons ready. Seven cannons were just in front of the Rangers and crossbowmen and they were being quickly loaded as the enemy soldiers formed up for the attack.

The enemy formation mirrored his own. On each flank was positioned two thousand cavalry, both light and heavy, and in the centre was the infantry. Ten thousand heavy infantry formed the centre of the Harad army. Most wielded halberds and marched in tightly packed formations, supported by spearmen and swordsmen. From where he was Aragorn could see units of infantry marching under flags bearing a crescent.

'Saracens,' my uncle told him.

Aragorn pulled a spyglass, a device invented only in the last year, from his belt and studied the enemy soldiers up close. The Saracens wore mail armour and flowing robes and carried scimitars. They were in the front ranks of the Harad army as it prepared to advance. Before the main ranks of infantry was a loose line of two thousand foot archers but behind them he could see two ranks of infantry carrying what looked like spears but the archers were making it difficult to see.

'Orders?' asked Faramir.

'We fore them to attack us,' he answered. 'To your places,' he then looked at one of the signalmen carrying a long flag. 'We need to give the enemy an invitation to attack. Order the cannons to fire.'

'Understood,' he said and hoisted a red flag into the air.

Markus sat on his horse on the left flank. Many of the other English Knights were with him with Edmund and his cavalry. Next to him on his horse sat Mathew who held his lance in a tight grip.

'Well, here we are again,' he said to Markus as he looked down at the enemy cavalry directly facing them.

'Indeed,' my cousin responded. 'Indeed we are. I wish those bastards would get on with it.'

'Aye,' the booming voice of Rickard said as he rode up to them holding a metal tankard in his free hand and his preferred weapon strapped to his back, a war hammer which came to his shoulder and had a spike on the butt of the weapon. 'Let's throw them back to the desert where they belong.'

'Where have you been?' Markus asked him.

'Tavern. The beer's rubbish but it's better than the other rubbish the quartermaster gives us,' he then took a large gulp from the tankard, emptied it and dropped it onto the ground. 'Steadies the hand,' he said and pulled up his weapon, easily holding it in one fist.

'As long as your hand still works I'm happy,' said Markus.

Just then all seven cannons fired. Horses shifted nervously, still not completely used to the roar of cannons and Rickard winced.

'That opens the ball,' Markus quipped as he saw the cannon balls land in the enemy.

From where he was he could see the balls tearing long strips in the ranks of the Harad host killing dozens of infantrymen and wounding many more.

'Ha!' exclaimed Rickard. 'Will those idiots ever learn not to stand in line while their getting fired at?'

'Actually they've learned to advance forwards,' said Mathew.

'Really?'

Rickard then looked forwards and saw the entire enemy army marching forwards.

'Prepare to advance,' ordered Gregory from the front of the formation, who was in the command of the left wing of the cavalry.

Mathew and Markus lowered their lances while Rickard made a practice swing with his hammer. Markus looked at his cousin with a smile before lowering his helmets visor.

Ahead of them Markus could see the enemy moving forwards. From his position my cousin could see the enemy cavalry moving towards them at a slow pace. The infantry were moving forwards slowly as well at a steady march but the archers were jogging ahead of the rest.

'Steady,' Gregory ordered as his men awaited the order to charge.

Next to him Edmund spoke silently and Gregory nodded.

'Will they just give the order?' asked Rickard.

'They will soon Rickard. They will soon.'

The enemy cavalry was advancing uphill towards them and that was when Markus noticed that some of them were bearing crescent flags.

'Saracens,' said Mathew.

'Yes they are.'

Gregory turned his horse around to look at his men and then drew his large great sword before holding it up.

'Deus vult! Charge!'

Markus let out a cheer and kicked his horse into a gallop down the hill. His horse was fast. It carried him to the front rank of the charge as they cascaded down at the enemy who charged up the hill at them. Over the din of men charging he could still hear the enemies battle cry.

'Allahu akbar!'

Markus kicked his horse again and he raced ahead of many of the other men. Just to his left one of Edmund's men held his sword high as he charged to death or glory. Directly ahead of Markus was a Saracen soldier wearing segmented armour, a long red cape and he was armed with a scimitar. Markus aimed the head of his lance at that man as the two sides clashed. The lance went straight through the man's neck impaling the Saracen and throwing him off his horse. My cousin drew his sword and swung at the next soldier cutting his arm off. He then stabbed a man through the eye before his horse reared up and kicked another horse down. Rickard was close by and raced forwards swinging his massive hammer throwing men through the air and killing them outright. Mathew was using his sword with great skill and dispatched an enemy soldier easily. Markus suddenly parried a blow from a scimitar and but his blow was also blocked. His opponent was a skilled warrior and they exchanged blows for half a minute until the Harad rider was stabbed in the back of the neck by another knight. Markus at once rode on to find another opponent and all around him was death. A knight fell dead from his horse, a scimitar buried in his neck and blood running down his shining armour, a trio of dying horses on top of their dead riders, a Saracen was stabbed in three places at once by two knights and one of Edmund's riders. Edmund himself caught a scimitar with his armoured hand and pulled the sword dragging the rider with him. Markus rode over to Edmund and together they fought hard against their enemies. He didn't know how much time had passed but his sword and armour was slick with blood. He thought he could hear hand cannons being fired over the din of swords clashing and men dying.

'COME ON!' a voice boomed through the air and Markus looked to see Rickard, without his horse, as he stood in a ring of dead Harad and Saracen's with his bloodied hammer held in one hand.

A Harad rider charged at him with a lowered lance. Rickard ducked under the lance and slammed his hammer up into the horses neck killing the beast which skidded into the ground. Rickard raced over to the rider and stabbed the man with the spike in his hammer. Markus knew his brother would be fine for now but he kept close anyway as he fought on. He stabbed a man through the neck and then stabbed a lightly armoured Harad through the chest, slicing through armour and leather. Just then he heard the sounds of marching coming closer and closer as the enemy cavalry retreated revealing a terrible sight. Five hundred halberdiers marching forwards incredibly fast and showing superb coordination. They expertly marched and quickly formed a ring around the knights before they lowered their halberds and marched forwards.

'Shit,' growled Markus as a few stabbed up at one of Edmund's riders killing him.

 **AN: Well, the battle begins. What did you think of this chapter because I loved writing it. Sorry it took a while but I've been busy with coursework (groan) and Empire Earth and an original novel. Anyway, please review, give me your thoughts and any suggestions.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **ATP: Thanks for the review.**

 **KiyaNamiel: No, you are not getting Alaric. Anyway, I hope this slightly longer chapter was an improvement on the last one. Thanks for the review.**


	39. Chapter 38 The Battle of Edwistchien II

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings

Chapter 38

The Battle of Edwistchien II

I was standing in the front rank of the army towards the right flank but not on the very edge of the army. I was on the opposite edge of the line of battle to my cousins but still I had to follow my king's commands. I was leading men again into battle. This time a hundred of the Knights of Foot. Each of them wore a suit of armour and the only common weapon each of us carried was a hand and a half sword but each man also carried whatever weapon he favoured. Men carried pole axes, maces, hammers and great swords. About half of us though were simply armed with a sword and a shield bearing a cross. I carried one as well although I preferred to use Alaric with both hands but when fighting archers it was best to take every precaution. Next to me stood Argaloth, ready for battle and almost looked bored. He was armoured lighter than I with a mail hauberk which reached his knees, a hard leather jerkin and conical helmet with a nose guard and strapped to his arm was a shield with a white tree under a flying swan painted onto it. I gazed down at the enemy as they began their advance up the hill. They were well disciplined, I give them that, but so were we. We had trained for years for this. I reached for Alaric and drew the sword, the flickering orange light reflecting against my armour.

'I hate waiting,' Argaloth said to me.

'Here, here,' I agreed.

I heard a faint shout far behind us and a moment later I heard the whistling of arrows as they glided through the sky. Looking up I saw the swarm of arrows and crossbow bolts as they moved across the sky and I watched as they descended into the packed ranks of enemy soldiers. I could hear the enemy as the let out their final cries of death but still they came on. Looking along the ranks I could see Hannastog not too far away on his horse as he prepared to give the order to fire. The cannons launched balls again and I watched them as they crashed through the ranks of the approaching Haradrim. I could see that they were now moving forwards at a run and that was when the cavalry charged. I looked to try and see my cousins but I couldn't make them out in the massive group of horsemen. They thundered downhill towards the enemy cavalry and I watched them as they clashed into each other and I prayed that my cousins would be safe.

'First rank, fire!'

Hannastog's shout snapped my attention forwards as the Firehands used their weapons. The boom of their weapons was followed by a thick cloud of smoke which obscured the enemy. As the first rank of the Firehands reloaded the second rank levelled their weapons forwards and then fired. The cloud of smoke grew thicker but my ears still worked. I heard the sound of enemy arrows being loosed and I looked up to see the cloud of Harad arrows.

'Shields!' I ordered and I crouched down, raising my shield over my head.

An instant later the arrows smashed into my shield, burying themselves into the wood or bouncing off. Each blow sent a wave through my arm and into my shoulder. Arrows thudded into the dirt kicking up clouds of dust and there was a clanging sound as they bounced off of armour. For a few seconds the arrows fell hard all around me but then, as suddenly as they came, they stopped. After taking a nervous moment to recover I stood up and looked around me as my men stood up. Everyone had several arrows in their shields and a few had arrows in their armour. They looked to be fine but on the ground were the men who died. Only a few yards from where I stood there was a young knight with an arrow in his neck and another in his eye. Several of the Firehands were dead as well but Hannastog kept his men firing. They were so well trained it was incredible. Then another flight of arrows descended and we raised our shields. Our archers and crossbowmen answered this volley with shots of their own. After about three minutes of this cycle I was eager to get going, to get to grips with the enemy.

'First rank,' Hannastog shouted but then there was a volley of shots fired.

To my shock about five or six of the Firehands fell dead and the others looked at each other in shock.

'What the-?' asked Argaloth.

'Fire!'

The Firehands fired their weapons again but that was followed by another volley not from our own men. Again a few of the Firehands fell dead.

'Withdraw!' shouted Hannastog and the Firehands pulled back, going through the gaps in our ranks.

When they had gone ahead of me was a thick wall of blue-gray smoke. By now the enemy would be close by and I knew the plan of battle. As soon as the Ribaults had fired their weapons I gave the order.

'Let's give them a welcome to Gondor!' I said to my men. 'Forwards!'

I marched forwards with my men behind me. At a steady pace we marched forwards into the wall of smoke, holding our breath until we emerged through it to see the enemy. The enemy archers had retreated and ahead of us, not too far down the hill, was the enemy army. However, in front of the massed ranks of halberdiers and swordsmen, were two ranks of men garbed in the normal look of the Haradrim. However, for a weapon each man carried the weapon of a Firehand. The front rank of their soldiers was kneeling and had their weapons levelled at us. They fired.

'Drop!' I roared just as the volley hit us. Men around me fell, their plate armour torn open by lead balls and the shining metal stained crimson with blood. Pain exploded in my left shoulder as I hit the ground and I looked to the source of the pain. My spaulder was torn open and blood was rushing out of the wound. Biting back the pain I looked around me to see that all along the first wave of our army had dropped to the ground. We all knew what weapons using black powder could do.

'What are we going to do?' screamed a young man just behind me. I looked at him and saw the face of a man who had only just left the Squires. In his eyes was desperation

'We can't wait here to be shot at!' I answered him. 'Charge! Charge for God and the King!'

I at once stood up and held Alaric high, biting my lip at the pain so hard that blood filled my mouth. I shut my visor and raced forwards, praying I would make it to the enemy lines before they fired again. I hoped my men were following my example, as far as I was concerned in that moment all that existed in the world was myself and the enemy army. As I came closer and closer to them they fired again but no shot hit me. I thought I heard screams but I wasn't certain. They fired again and again but God deemed that I should not be struck down. Soon I was very close and then the first wave of halberdiers behind the enemy Firehands charged forwards, passing their men and holding their weapons ready. I tried to ignore the pain in my shoulder as I made it forwards and lifted my shield. An enemy thrust his halberd at me but I knocked it aside with my shield, flashes of pain shooting through my arm, and then I brought Alaric down into my enemies shoulder. The flickering blade sliced straight through and I quickly moved on to my next enemy. I smashed my shield into the halberdiers face, feeling his jaw shatter and then I punched the side of it into the next opponent nose, knocking him to the ground before I thrust my sword down through his neck.

I dodged a halberd thrust and then smashed my blade into the weapons shaft shattering it before I stabbed the man who held it through his guts. I swung low with my next opponent, opening him up and then, letting out a roar, I sliced a man from collar bone to hip. That was when I slowly became aware of the battle around me. The first wave had thankfully charged forwards, most of it anyway, and now the battle was in full swing. All around me my men were fighting hard. A pair of knights fought back to back and close by another swung a poleaxe down into a halberdiers head before being stabbed through the back of the neck. A Harad soldier was stabbed from the front and the back while right next to him a knight was clutching at the Halberd in his breast plate. In the end this attack had no cohesion, no order. Neither of us attacked in formation and as a result our discipline was gone, replaced by skill and strength.

I was yanked back into the fight by a man who charged at me with his scimitar drawn. I parried the blade deftly and then barged my shield into him but he blocked it with his own shield. That was when I saw the crescent painted onto the shield and I knew I was facing a Sracen. We glared each other down as we dared one another to make the next move. In the end I did and I swung Alaric in from the side. He moved to block it with his sword but when the blades met his sword shattered. I was about to make the kill when he dropped his shield and rolled over the bloody ground, grabbed a Gondorian sword and attacked me again. I dodged his attack and then I rammed my shield and shoulder into him, agony searing through my body, and he was knocked to the ground. I brought Alaric down and opened his head up. Through the narrow slit of my visor I could see the utter chaos ahead of me. I turned around behind me to see a field strewn with bodies of both sides and, close behind us, was the second wave of soldiers who were advancing forwards with lock step discipline. I turned around again and saw the next wave of enemy soldiers coming towards us, highly disciplined as well. My wave and the enemy wave were locked in the middle. I pushed up my visor, my face was greeted by hot air, and then I shouted orders, hoping my voice would carry.

'Push forwards! Don't stop! Forwards!'

I shut my visor again and tore off my shield, gripped Alaric with both hands and the ache in my shoulder dulled somewhat. I ran forwards and almost jumped onto my next foe, Alaric slicing his arm off as another knight finished him off. I swung my left fist into the side of a man's head and then grabbed another by the neck as I thrust my sword through his shoulder and out his neck. The next wave of enemy soldiers marched into us just as the Gondorian's behind us pushed forwards. At the last moment they charged forwards and the next part of the battle was joined. Steel swords and armour flashed in the sun as we fought each other on that hill.

...

'For God's sake,' grumbled Rickard as he gripped his hammer around the end of the shaft in both hands and marched forwards to the enemy's line of halberds. Looking over his shoulder at his brothers and the other men who shifted on their horses he grinned. 'Follow me and don't tell my wife I'm doing this!'

He then ran forwards and swiped his hammer across the halberds shattering them before sliding his hammer through his hands and then gripped it with one hand below the head and the other at the base and charged in, holding the shaft level with the height of a man's head. The shaft of the hammer knocked man after man down in front of him leaving a Rickard shaped hole in the enemy ranks. The enemy ring was only a few men deep and he soon made it out. Almost at once he saw Markus and Mathew ride past him through the hole and fall on their enemies from behind. Rickard's horse had been killed earlier and, knowing he couldn't stay with the cavalry, he moved towards the rest of the enemy army. A dozen other men who had been thrown from their horses joined him, following Rickard forwards.

'Alright boys,' Rickard shouted and rested his hammer over his shoulder, 'let's give it to them!'

They charged and smashed into the flank of a group of halberdiers who were not expecting to be attacked there. They couldn't bring their weapons to bear in time so the attack went well at first. Rickard swung his hammer wide, killing two men with one blow, and then he swung down onto a man's head driving it down into his spine. He threw back enemies with his weapons butt and then swung a huge fist into a man's jaw. His men followed him and they were fighting well. Rickard was at the head smashing his way through the enemies ranks. He swung low, knocking out a man's legs from under him before he brought the hammer down onto the soldiers back smashing his spine. A Harad officer dressed in looted Gondorian plate charged at him, swinging a huge scimitar widely as if he was going to be dancing rather than fighting. Rickard swung his hammer and hit him so hard that the breastplate was thrown straight off the man and flew through the air before crashing somewhere in the distance.

'Who wants to face a soldier of Gondor?' he bellowed as he marched through the enemies ranks, smashing anything in his path.

His weapon, heavy in his hands and slick with blood, was brought up and down, knocking down enemies and killing them.

...

I thrust another man through the stomach and he fell dead. All around me I saw my fellow soldiers dying but still we fought in. Now, all of the soldiers in Gondor's army had been thrown in as well as all of our enemies. We were so packed together it was hard to swing Alaric but I fought on. So far the battle was deadlocked and I had no idea what was happening on the flanks. My foot landed in something soft and wet but I ignored it, focusing on the man in front of me. He was a Harad armed with a spear who was trying to move his long weapon into a position to use it. I managed to get Alaric level with his neck and I cut, opening his throat from ear to ear. It took a few moments for him to fall dead from how tightly packed we were but when he hit the ground a Harad with a scimitar attacked me. His blade hit hard against my helmet and my ears were filled with the sound of blow, it was deafening. It took some moments for me to recover and in that time he landed blow after blow against my armour, fortunately he didn't find a good place to strike me, so I managed to recover enough the grab him by his sword arm and use Alaric to sever the limb at the elbow. He screamed but I ignored him as I brought my fist into his face knocking him out. Not far away Argaloth was fighting as hard as I was except he had dropped his shield, sheathed his sword and was fighting with a pair of daggers. He thrust them quickly through the joints in our foes armour and then moved onto the next man.

'Push on!' I shouted, my own voice ringing in my helmet.

I elbowed a man as I tried to move forwards but everything was chaos. Everywhere men were fighting for their lives against their enemies. However, behind me I heard a shout of joy and, after I killed another Haradrim soldier, I looked behind me to see thirty horsemen charging straight through our ranks right behind me. At their head was our king, spending in a long black and red cape and wearing shining plate armour, his ancient blade held high. I got out of the way as well and his men smashed straight through the enemy lines. He and his men cut a bloody swathe through the enemy ranks, riding down our enemies and opening a breach in the Haradrim lines. I pushed up my visor and looked at my men.

'Follow him! Follow your king!'

I charged through the breach and ran at a Saracen who was still dazed by the rampaging charge of the king and his guards. I cut that Saracen down quickly and then, saw with some relief that the enemy were on the run. Some were dropping their weapons and fleeing while others still fought on. Energy pushed through me one more time and I fought my way through their ranks as fast I could. However, the efforts of the king, I realised, was only effecting things in our area of the battle. Across the rest of the line there was a stalemate. I looked to the king again and he was fighting incredibly well like Hector or Achilles. Just then I heard something. It was faint, in the distance, muffled by my helmet but it was there. It was a battle horn blowing. I looked to its source, a group of hills covered by evergreen trees to the west, but I could see nothing. Then, out of the trees they came. Rank upon rank of men in shining silver armour and wearing billowing sea blue capes. I didn't know if they were friend or foe for a few moments until I saw their banners. A white swan on a sea of blue. At their head was a figure I had seen many times at tourneys. Prince Imrahil and five hundred Knights of Dol Amroth charged into the flank of the Haradrim host like a scythe through wheat.

...

'I am so sorry I failed to arrive yesterday Your Majesty,' Prince Imrahil said to the king in his tent hours later in front of all the commanders of the army.

My uncle sat near the king as he watched the leader of Dol Amroth speak of his lateness to the battle. Faramir was next to the king and Hannastog was close by my uncle, looking incredibly troubled by the fact that Gondor's greatest weapon was now being used by their enemies. My uncle sympathised with him greatly, the hand cannon was as much my uncles weapon as it was Hannastog's.

'My friend,' Aragorn said to the prince warmly, 'I didn't even know you would be able to come at all. Your presence here ended a battle which was in stalemate.'

'And it gave my boys a chance to show their worth,' said Gregory from his chair, his arm in a sling from an enemy lance.

'We'll just have to catch up with you next time,' said one of Imrahil's knights.

'Anyway,' Imrahil continued, 'just before my men were going to set sail a Corsair fleet appeared and we had to retreat.'

'Where are the Corsairs now?' asked Aragorn, clearly worried.

'I do not know sire. Soon after they appeared they tried to blockade Dol Amroth but when the royal fleet attacked they scattered.'

'Prince Imrahil, you saw to the defence of your people before coming here. There are fewer qualities I admire in a man. I am just grateful your knights arrived and now, we have driven our enemies back.'

'I also sent men into Southern Gondor,' Imrahil told the king. 'Three thousand of my men-at-arms are securing the border with Harad now, retaking our castles and relieving the garrisons.'

'Most of our enemies were killed here,' said Faramir. 'For now the threat is over.'

'Excellent,' said Aragorn as he stood up. 'Prince Imrahil, I ask that your men-at-arms remain in the south for now until the border is secured. My men are weary from fighting.'

'Sire, it will be my honour for the men of Dol Amroth to defend the realm.'

'Thank you. Now, we can celebrate our victory!' he turned to the rest of the officers. 'For Gondor!'

'For Gondor!' they all echoed and my uncle smiled and rose from his chair, leaving the tent.

It was night and in the camp there was a lot of noise as men drank and ate after our victory. My uncle looked up at the stars and closed his eyes.

'Daniel,' he whispered, 'be with us. Please.'

 **AN: So, what did you think? I hope you all liked this battle because I had a blast writing it. Please review and give me your thoughts.**

 **KiyaNamiel: I tried to make this chapter a little more up-beat by throwing in Rickard's usual antics and by having Prince Imrahil. I love that guy, probably because the Knights of Dol Amroth look so cool. By the way, if you try to steal Alaric you'll have to get past Rickard and his hammer.**

 **ATP: Yes, it's true that early firearms were not very reliable but their inaccuracy was made up for by the terror they struck in the hearts of medieval soldiers, especially horses which in the earlier years would flee the field at the sound of the guns going off. In the early years of firearms it was a choice between numbers as it was easier to train men with firearms or accuracy which was gained by longbows and crossbows.**

 **Thanks for the reviews guys. I hope you liked the chapter.**


	40. Chapter 39 Celebrations and Allies

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

Chapter Thirty Nine

Celebrations and Allies

I swung my sword arm again, biting back the pain I still felt there. According to the healers if the lead ball had been a thumb width to the left I would have lost the arm. I stood facing Rickard in the training ground of the barracks in Minas Tirith as we practiced. The two of us were wearing basic clothes, the weather had grown extremely hot over the past few days, and as a result it was uncommon to see a door or window closed in the city, each of the houses gasping for fresh air. Since the battle my arm had been in a sling for weeks and since I was allowed to move it again, I swear I despise healers sometimes, I had been getting back into practice. Rickard parried the blow from my practice blade excellently and then countered it with a series of heavy blows, each of which I managed to block.

'I think we can rest now,' Rickard gasped. 'I need ale.'

'You need ale all the time,' I reminded him and wiped the sweat from my brow.

Looking around me I saw other knights practicing for battle. They had come from across Middle Earth, the largest group from the outposts across Gondor and Rohan. To my left I saw a pair of knights wearing lacquered Rohirric armour adorned with our orders heraldry. They were a part of the twelve thousand men from Rohan who had come to join us in the war. Altogether our combined army numbered over fifty thousand strong. I also saw knights from Gondor with us, all of them practicing for the war to come. By the building I saw tables set up with food and drink for us all. Rickard and I put our training blades on a rack and then to the tables where we each got a flagon of cool ale. It was already warming in the sun but it was still fairly cool.

'Looking forward to the feast tonight?' I asked him.

'Of course. Any chance I get to drink and eat I look forward to.'

'Isn't that just most nights for you?'

'Aye.'

'I don't know how your wife can stand you.'

'Calwel and I, she loves me because I'm so different from her. You and Sunniva though, you two could have become missionaries together.'

'No. I couldn't manage that life.'

'Good thing too. Otherwise who'd stop me drinking myself to death?'

'Markus.'

'No. He'd just make sure I wrote my will first. Ha!'

We both laughed at that for a few moments before our attention turned to two boys fighting at the edge of the training ground with wooden swords. Luke, Rickard's son, and Daniel. They were not showing any technique, they were just enjoying themselves, practicing with toy weapons among men training for war.

'How long till they wear armour?' Rickard asked me.

'I hope never,' I told him. 'The last thing we need is for our wives to see all of us go off to battle together.'

'Yes. Besides, after you told Calwel what I did in the battle she still hasn't forgiven me.'

'You charged into a phalanx of halberds,' I reminded him. 'You're lucky you weren't impaled.'

'I know, I know but it was either that or half the armies cavalry getting killed. It was worth the risk.'

'I suppose so. Come on, we better get ready for the feast.'

...

In one of the quiet rooms of the Citadel the King of Gondor, King of Rohan who had arrived the day before, Prince of Dol Amroth, Corinir, Lord of Pelagir and the Steward of the realm stood around a table with a map on it displaying the way to Umbar. They had to plan the campaign out and how they would move their combined force of fifty thousand across hundreds of miles of enemy territory.

'We don't have enough ships to transport the entire army south,' Corinir explained to his king. 'If you want to go the whole way by sea we'll need another year to build the ships at least.'

'We can't wait another year,' said Eomer. 'Half of my infantry are levies from the fields. I cannot keep them longer than six months before they are obliged to return home.'

'Then we have to go by land,' Faramir said and moved his finger from Gondor to Umbar. 'The route will take us through enemy lands. We don't know how many of the Haradrim have joined Umbar in their war so it could be all of them against us.'

'Supplying men in such a land will be hard,' said Corinir. 'The Royal Fleet can carry the food though.'

'In that case we stay by the coast,' Aragorn decided. 'There are a number of ports along the coast. We'll need to secure each one before moving onto the next. Eomer, my friend, is there any way of keeping your levies with us longer than six months?'

'I think about half would stay for enough gold but the rest need to return to tend the fields and harvest their crops.'

'So we will lose two and a half thousand men after six months,' said Imrahil.

'Your Majesty,' said Corinir, 'I am also concerned over the numbers of our ships. Our spies report that the enemy fleet outnumbers ours greatly. While our ships cannons give us an advantage, when it comes to a battle I fear they will have the advantage.'

'And on top of that the enemy have hand cannons,' Faramir reminded them all. 'Lord Hannastog has inspected them and they match our own weapons.'

'So the enemy could have cannons and more ships. The navy is not ready for a war on this scale.'

'I know,' said Aragorn, clearly he had had enough of the pessimism from Corinir. 'Any man who says he is ready for war is a liar. We have won against worse odds before. We all have. We will do so again. Lord Corinir, I want the fleet ready to depart from Pelagir in six weeks and travel to the Poros to wait for the army. The army will leave here in eight weeks as well and we will cross the Poros. After that we will move to the coast and then together we will march to Umbar and fight our way there. Tonight, we celebrate our first victory in the war and there are honours to be given out. We'll continue this discussion in the morning.'

...

In the throne room of the citadel nearly two hundred noble lords and ladies had gathered together. I was amongst them with Sunniva, Cenric, who had arrived with Rohans army and King, Markus, Hethnina and my uncle. Long wooden tables covered with food filled most of the space in there but below the throne was where we were all standing. Sitting on his throne was the king, his queen standing at his side, Faramir in the Stewards chair and the King of Rohan standing next to the Steward. Directly at the base of the raised dais the throne was on stood thirteen of the soldiers from the battle who had distinguished themselves in the fighting. Each was dressed in their finest clothes and one by one they stepped forwards as they were called to receive their honours from the King.

'Jonah, son of Renvan,' the king said and then a young man, nineteen years old, stepped forwards and kneeled. He was a common soldier, one of my uncles levies to be exact. 'For your heroic rescue of five men in the heat of battle, shielding those wounded men with your own body, I grant to you a reward of seven hundred Crowns and Grand Master Gregory has agreed to allow you to join the ranks of the Order of English Knights.' The young man was clearly stunned as the king gently smiled. 'With your money Jonah you will be able to buy a horse and armour and ride into battle as a knight,' the king told him. 'Congratulations.'

We cheered him of course and Jonah, soon to be Sir Jonah, bowed to the king and joined the crowds. There was one man left to be rewarded.

'Sir Rickard Harris,' the King said and Rickard looked over his shoulder at his wife before kneeling before throne. 'Sir Rickard, for heroic action during the battle which saved the entire left wing of our cavalry, you are to be greatly rewarded. From this day forward, you are hereby given the title of Lord Harris,' I heard Sunniva gasp in surprise at this and I was incredibly surprised as well, 'and you will be granted the castle of Pine Hall and all of the associated lands and incomes around it. Rise Lord Rickard Harris.'

Rickard stood up to cheers from all of us. In particular my uncle was cheering loudest of all of us at his sons new honour.

'Thank you sire,' Rickard said and bowed deeply to his king before walking back to his wife and took her in his arms and kissed her.

'He's never been a subtle man has he?' said Cenric.

'No he hasn't,' I told him. 'I remember, when we were thirteen we were in the woods and there was a gang of poachers nearby. instead of sneaking away quietly Rickard roared loud enough to sound like twenty men and they ran off.'

'Why am I not surprised?' asked Sunniva.

'Now,' the king said and stood up, 'let the feast begin. Tonight we rejoice in the memories of those we lost to gain victory at Edwistchien.'

We all walked over to the tables and of course we enjoyed the fantastic food. My uncle sat away with us talking to young Jonah and congratulating him on his knighthood. I sat with my wife and brother by law while my cousins and their wives sitting together across from us.

'How is Rohan recently?' I asked Cenric.

'Very good John. The king for a start is trusting me with more roles in combat. Six months ago I commanded a raid into the lands of the Wildmen.'

'How did it go?' Sunniva asked him before fixing him with a stern glare. 'And why didn't you tell me?'

'I didn't want you to worry,' he explained. 'The raid went off without any trouble. One of their tribes attacked a village of ours. We went after them and took back all they stole.'

'Well done Cenric,' by God, I swear it is still hard to see him as a man instead of that boy I took away from his sister at Helms Deep.

Cenric by then had grown to be taller than most men with broad shoulder and bull like arms. He also had long hair and a short beard, the same shade as his sister's hair.

'So,' Rickard said loudly as he filled his tankard full of beer, 'we'll be in Umbar in a week and drinking to another victory,' my boisterous cousin declared loudly.

'Don't let your new title go to your head,' Sunniva warned him.

'That is "don't let your new title go to your head _my lord_."'

'No,' Sunniva said ridiculously and then we all laughed.

'She does have a point my lord,' Calwel said to her husband. 'Don't be so arrogant.'

'My friend,' Hethnina said to her, 'Markus and John have been working on that for years.'

'So?' she asked and smirked.

'May I join you?'

We all looked over to see Arch Bishop Harold there.

'Of course,' I said and moved over as he sat down next to me.

'I hear that you have all won much glory,' he said and smiled.

'Indeed we have,' said Rickard.

'Yes. Well, there will soon be a great deal more glory to win in the south.'

'Hopefully there will be.'

'Yes. To be young and eager for glory is a great thing.'

'We are hardly young men anymore,' said Markus.

'When you reach my age everyone looks young. I hope you'll all live long enough to know that feeling.'

'Members of the Harris family always live long lives,' I reminded him.

'Yes. Your family does have a tradition for that. Now, I want you to know that I will be speaking tomorrow in the Great Market at noon.'

'Really?' I asked him. 'What about?'

'That is for you to see,' he said to us before drinking some ale.

For about an hour we enjoyed our food and drink while music was played and a mistrel performed a song he had composed about the battle ("Forgot to mention the blood" Rickard said in a very loud whisper) and the young musician was of course cheered. About half way through the feast though a guard walked in and quickly spoke with the king. I looked over at the kings face to see it turn from surprise to a beaming smile. After the guard left the king stood up and clapped his hands which silenced the room.

'My friends,' he said to us, 'it appears that even in our darkest hours more friends of the realm have come to aid us.'

As he said that the doors opened and a group of men walked in. They were dark haired and carrying bows, wearing rough clothes of leather and mail armour. With them though were a pair of Elven warriors wearing fine armour and carrying expertly made swords. As soon as they saw them the king and queen stood up and hurried over to the arrivals. All of their faces broke out into beaming smiles as they embraced each other. In the case of the queen and the two other Elves they broke into a rapid conversation in Elvish.

'My people,' the king said loudly to all of us, 'my people, we are joined in this war by my old friend, Halbarad of the Rangers of the North, and my brothers by marriage, Lords Elladan and Elrohir.'

'Few Elves remain in Middle Earth,' the one I believed was Elladan said loudly for us all, 'but those of us who remain are honoured to aid the greatest of Men's kingdoms.'

'We have brought over five hundred with us,' added Halbarad. 'And we shall drive back our foes once again!'

At that declaration there was a cheering from all of us. I still remembered seeing the piles of dead Uruk-Hai at Helms Deep who were killed by the Elves. As we cheered, we knew that all we had would be thrown into the war.

...

In Umbar the leader of the city stood over a pit in the ground. Looking into it the cloaked one held out there small, slender hands over the pit and chanted in a mix of Sindarin and Black Speech. Looking down into the pit was an odd mixture of items. There was the skeleton of a man, the skull of an Uruk and the body of a rat. There were also potions poured into it and a small container of black powder. The chanting continued and then there was a huge flash of light from the pit. Looking down into it the cloaked one could see nothing but smoke. Then a hairy, clawed hand reached out of the pit and clawed at the edge, pulling the rest of the huge form out of the pit. The cloaked one smiled and saw their creation. It was shaped like a man but possessed the muscles of an Uruk. From its lower spine emerged a long, snake like tail and its head had the ears and long muzzle of a rat. It growled and snarled towards its creator but then fell to one knee very slowly.

'Excellent,' the leader said and smiled. 'You are the first of a new race of warrior. Serve me well.'

 **AN: So, here's the next chapter. I hope you all liked this one and I'm sorry this took so long but I've been busy lately. So, as ever please give me your thoughts and please review. Lastly, I've published a Harry Potter one-shot which I hope you will check out some time.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **KiyaNamiel:  
I'm sorry but Rickard is bribe proof and he is immune to the puppy eyes. I'm glad you liked some of Faramir and personally I think it's a shame Prince Imrahil wasn't in the films but on the other hand I don't know how they could have fit him in. Thanks for the review.**

 **ATP:  
Yes, I imagine knights facing firearms in the early days of firearms would have been in for a nasty shock. Thanks for your review.**


	41. Chapter 40 Reason and Promise

Strangers No More

I do not own the rights to Lord of the Rings

 **NA: Sorry I've been gone for so long. I know I have been gone for bloody ages but my absence has been caused for several reasons. Firstly, exams and revision, second, I discovered Skyrim, yes I know I'm years out of date but it's so addictive, Doctor Who, I'm not even going to touch that subject or I'll suffer a DDoS attack, writing an original novel, which is going well, and planning a Star Wars/Warhammer 40,000 crossover. Anyway, I'm really sorry I've kept you waiting for so long. Here we go and thanks for waiting.**

Chapter Forty

Reason and Promise

Haldun Sozen sat in the army camp outside of Umbar. He looked up from his scimitar which he was sharpening and looked around him at the tens of thousands of soldiers getting ready for the war they would soon march on. Haldun was one of the officers in the Ottoman contingent of the army. Looking back to when he first came to Middle Earth those early years were chaotic. He and his company were in pursuit of bandits when they went through a portal and into Middle Earth. Soon after arriving they were attacked by one of the desert tribes. Fighting was the only way of surviving in the brutal lands of Harad. Thinking about it made Haldun frown. Those violent years were something he regretted with all his heart. If there was any way of surviving without the wars, they would have done it. Still, if it wasn't for the shadowed one they would still be wondering vagabonds. Now he and his people were powerful leaders in the city of Umbar. There were many converts to the faith and they had many soldiers who held an important position in the army. Still, perhaps being vagabonds might be better than what they had become.

'Hal,' his friend Yaban said as he sat next to him, 'ready for the war?'

'Naturally,' he answered him and sheathed his blade.

'Really? You don't sound so convinced.'

'You know my thoughts on our leader.'

'If it wasn't for her we'd be dead or slaves by now.'

'I know Yab, I know. It's just, we owe her our lives, our power but what if she leads us to ruin? You know what happened when the Frank's stormed Jerusalem. We can't let that happen to Umbar.'

'Some would say that the best way stop that would be to destroy them.'

'How long will it last? We kill them, they kill us, we kill more of them, they kill more of us. If she leads us, I fear that this will go on and on. By the will of Allah we've crossed entire worlds but still we kill each other. Poor Ustun agreed to be an assassin for her and now for all we know he's now in their king's dungeon or in the ground.'

'He knew what he volunteered for. He was a brave man and he did his duty as we all must.'

'I see what you mean but I just have a bad feeling about all of this. She has done much for us but why has she done it all. She might just be using us as pawns.'

'If she is, we'll deal with it when the time comes. For now we focus on doing our duty.'

'I'll try Yab. But if she betrays us I will deal with her.'

'You? You've seen what she can do.'

'Allah will be with me if I need to destroy that witch.'

'Keep your damn voice down you idiot,' he said and looked over his shoulder in case someone was listening. When he was sure no one was nearby he looked at Haldun and whispered. 'You might not be the only one whose been speaking of such things.'

'Who else?'

'I can't say for now. But look, if we move against her, we might lose everything.'

'Or we could win everything. With Allah on our side we cannot lose.'

'We'll talk on this more later. For now we focus on the war.'

'Very well. Allahu akhbar.'

'Allahu akhbar.'

Yaban stood up and walked away while Haldun looked at the men around him. All were readying their weapons and polishing their armour, all knowing that soon they would spill blood for their leader.

...

Getting through the Great Market the afternoon after the feast was near impossible. Word had spread incredibly fast of the Arch Bishop's speech that day so a great many people had arrived. In fact so many were there that it was almost impossible to move. The Harris family had turned out in full to hear his words. At the head of us as we walked through the market, was my uncle with a pair of his men at arms in full armour and carrying pole arms to keep pick pockets out of our way. Just behind him walked Markus with Hethnina and their children. After him Rickard, Calwel and their children and at the back was myself with Sunniva and our brood. Behind us were two more men at arms and about a dozen or so of the leading knights of the Order, some in armour and some dressed in their finest.

'Where are we going?' Daniel asked me as we walked through the crowds.

'Grandfather has a friend and his house's balcony overlooks the market. We'll have a good view from there.'

'Alright,' he responded.

'I hope there'll be enough room,' said Sunniva. 'There must be two dozen of us at least.'

'I've been there before Sunniva. There's more than enough room for us and if there isn't we'll go on the roof.'

'Don't make me go up there father,' Sunngif said to me and looked at the roofs of the surrounding buildings with fear.

'Don't worry I'll force your uncle Rickard on the roof before you have to go up there.'

She sighed in relief and I saw Sunniva shake her head and smile at our daughter.

'John is that you?'

I looked to the voice and saw Edmund flanked by a pair of his men pushing through the crowds towards us.

'Who else would it be? Are you turning blind now?'

'Not yet,' he answered and walked along with us. 'Now, you have an idea on what this is about?'

'I have one or two ideas Edmund. We're heading to Lord Cholon's house to watch it. Do you want to join us?'

'No I can't. Too busy down here.'

'Busy?'

'I have two dozen men walking about selling food and drink. Someone's got to supervise them.'

'I hope you make plenty from them. Do you only do this on special occasions?'

'No, I have them out all the time. I'll just make more today when everyone is here in the market.'

'I see what you mean. Good luck Edmund.'

'I hope you get a good view. I'll see you later.'

With that he walked off and we continued on our way towards the house. We made it there soon and my uncle led us in. We were shown up by the servants to the dining room which had a massive balcony the length of the room. We all made it there as quickly as possible, settling into chairs by the stone balustrade where we could overlook the whole of the market. From where we were it was obvious just how many people were crammed into the market. Some stood on large carts and empty stalls to get a view and others, like ourselves, were on balconies, sitting on rooftops and leaning out of windows for a good view. At the edge of the market were members of the city watch, keeping an eye open for pickpockets and other miscreants. From where we were it appeared that every Christian in the city was there as well as other Gondorian's and one or two of the Elves, curious to see what was happening. At the head of the market, by a group of life size statues displaying the Fellowship of the Ring, was erected a wooden platform which a few priests stood on. Around the platform were soldiers and knights to provide security and, slowly moving through the crowds were half a dozen of the Order's best knights gathered around the Arch Bishop. When he stepped up onto the platform the crowds silenced and waited for him to begin.

'He's brought out all the finery,' said Markus.

Indeed my cousin was correct. The Arch Bishop was wearing his full bishops garb of white cloth and gold, a white mitre on his head and in his right hand he held a crook. For a few moments he stood there and looked across the crowds with his failing eyes and then, at last, began to speak, loudly and clearly for all of us to hear.

'My friends, all of my life I have stood in pulpits and prayed for our souls. I have granted the last rights to dying women and butchered men. I have helped innocents corrupted by demons and stood watch as guilty men are taken to be hanged. Yet, in my long life, this is the act which I perform with the most difficulty and the most regret. I wish I do not have to say these words but, for the good of us all, they must be said. For hundreds of years, the followers of Christ have seen constant war and danger. This danger has come from many sides but now the greatest threat to God's children has crossed worlds to come after us! The Saracen's have come to this world and now serve the ancient enemies of Gondor. Four hundred years ago, Pope Urban the Second stood, as I now stand, before his people and asked of them that which I now ask of you,' he then paused and took a long look at all the people before him. 'I ask that you, the people of Gondor, swear that you shall fight for God, for glory and for all that is right! Those who upon this day swear to take up arms against the barbarians and travel with our great kings army in the coming war shall earn for himself full remission of his sins. Some of you who do not follow God, you may wonder why you should march and fight the Saracen's. Fight them because of the atrocities their kind has committed. Fight in remembrance of the innocents they enslaved when they took Jerusalem, for the Templar's and Hospitaller's butchered after Hattin, for the innocents who have suffered humiliation from their Saracen masters. For them you must fight. GOD WILLS IT!'

There was, as is well known, silence. We were all silent as we thought on what he had promised us. Eventually though the silence was broken when, down in the market, I saw a figure in expensive clothes walk towards the platform.

'Edmund,' my uncle said and, of course, it was him.

The merchant and warrior walked towards the platform, pushing his way through the crowds, until he was directly before the Arch Bishop.

'I will serve,' he announced loudly and the Arch Bishop blessed him. When he was blessed he climbed onto the platform and drew his sword, held it aloft and cried out, 'God wills it!'

As he said that I saw movement in the crowd as men and women started walking towards the platform. At first the knights and soldiers raised their weapons to protect Harold but he told them to stand aside and allow them through to take up the cross. I heard movement around me and I saw many of those with us on the balcony standing up to get down there. I looked at my uncle and he nodded at me. I stood up but before I started moving I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. It was Sunniva.

'John,' she said quietly, 'are you sure this is a good idea?'

'Of course it is,' I responded. 'Get the children home. I'll see you there later.'

'Hurry up you two,' Rickard said to me and Markus. 'No time to lose.'

I went with my cousins and everyone else except for my uncle who decided to stay for a while. We made it down into the market as more and more hurried around the platform to volunteer to join the Crusade. Many cried "God wills it!" and cheered as more joined but I also heard some shout "War mongers!" at us but I ignored them. At last after an hour of waiting one of the priests blessed me and, with that, I took up the cross.

...

When I got home some time later I found that none of the children were in the front room. I only saw Sunniva there sitting in her chair waiting for me. I took one look at her and I felt concern. It was the face she wore when she was not in a good mood at all.

'What is it?' I asked and sat opposite her.

'You volunteered to kill in the name of God.'

'Yes I know. It's what my family has done for centuries.'

'I hate war. You know that. Since you took Cenric away to fight at Helm's Deep I've hated war more than anything. Every time you've gone out to battle ever since then I have prayed that God will forgive you for killing, that he will see it as an evil which had to be done. Now you have sworn to kill in His name. Why?'

'Because the Saracen's are His enemies. They have slaughtered us for centuries. We've had to fight them again and agaim.'

'I thought we were all God's children,' she said, clearly annoyed at me. 'Why are the Saracen's His enemies? Because they don't worship him? Because they ignore all he stands for or is it because you have both hated each other for so long that you don't know how to be friends?'

'We are all God's children. But the Saracen's, they have gone against everything God stands for. If you were from England or any of the lands of my old world you would understand that.'

'And what if Rohan had gone to England?' she asked me and I was confused as to her meaning.

'What?'

'What if Rohan had gone to England. What if my country had appeared next to England? You'd have seen a country with a strong army, not weakened by civil war which did not follow God. How long would it have been until a Crusade had been called against Edoras?'

'That would not have happened,' I told her firmly 'Rohan is a land of good people. I have never known a man or woman from your country who was wicked or cruel.'

'You arrived in Edoras after we threw out the snake Grima. You have only seen the good of my countrymen, not the bad. If Rohan had gone to your world, perhaps it would not have survived.'

'Don't say that,' I told her but, deep down, I knew she was right. 'Please.'

'I have to say it John. Who else will? Killing for God is wrong. How is it that your family, all of them good men, want to do this?'

'Lucan Harris.'

'What?'

'Lucan Harris. He was the founder of my family. He was the man who created our coat of arms. He was one of the first into Jerusalem in the first crusade against the Saracen hordes. Because of that war he befriended a Norman Baron who gave Lucan some lands for his bravery. That was how our family began. You call us all good men. He, Lucan Harris, was the first our good men. The only reason I stand here is because of holy war. The reason we are married, the reason for our children, is holy war. The church teaches that we must do this.'

I hadn't taken my eyes off of Sunniva as I told her all of this and nearly killed me. I could see some tears forming in her beautiful eyes but still she doggedly stuck to her view.

'If the church teaches this, then perhaps the church needs a change. John, I love you. I have loved you since the say you left Edoras for Pelannor. I always will love you but if you go and kill in the name of God, claiming that spilling blood is done for his glory and it is what he wants, then you cannot be the perfect man I have always seen you as.'

'Sunniva,' I said and walked over to her, kneeling next to her and held her hand, 'I have sworn an oath now. Your people hold oaths stronger than any I have met. I have to do this now. I have to be in the Crusade.'

'I know. I know you have to do this. But,' she said and stopped to look me in the eye, 'but promise me, that you will only kill when there is no option left. Promise, swear that if you find a Saracen who is not like the ones who have heard of, spare him.'

'I swear Sunniva. On our children, on my cousins, before God I swear it.'

'Thank you.'

 **AN: So, after the hiatus I hope you have enjoyed that. I loved writing this chapter and the end part, I loved writing that. I typically hate writing arguments between people who care for each other so it was a challenge for me to write. Let me know what you think please. Have a great day everyone.**

 **Review Response Time:**

 **KiyaNamiel:  
Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the inclusion of the twins and Cenric coming back. By the way, I keep spelling Pelargir wrong thanks to a typo on Games Workshop's website a while back. Damn GW.**

 **ATP:  
Yeah, it is really interesting looking at how firearms made the traditional ideas of chivalry pointless. Thanks for the historical info as well, pretty helpful. By the way, what does ATP mean?**

 **Guest:  
At least it's not the Sigmarines.**


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